We Named a Penalty After Her
by bobalinafeelsmanly
Summary: "I couldn't look away from her eyes, staring straight into mine. I never thought I'd see the Paige McCullers look so vulnerable. And yet, she had never looked so strong." A collection in which Spencer remembers her old teammate, wondering how she could be so wrong and if she could ever make things right. (hinted McHastings)
1. Vulnerable, Yet Powerful

.

Author's notes: I'm not completely satisfied with how this turned out, though it's mainly due to being written in first person. I liked the idea of writing it in first person when I began, though I think I'd like it better if I had written it in third person. I'm too lazy to completely rewrite this though, so I'll just keep going with first person perspective for this story. Rated T simply because of the nature of this show.

I'll be doing a few others styled like this, but I'm uncertain as to how often I'll update. They'll be following Spencer's shifting thoughts about Paige and recalling their field hockey days, comparing a memory with the opinion of her that she has in that moment. I intend to write them all in a way that they could be read as a collection of oneshots. I marked this as romance even though it won't be blatantly obvious. It will be exploring thoughts and emotions, hinting at possible romantic feelings that aren't explicitly addressed.

I definitely plan to write some full on McHastings stories at some point though.

Insert typical disclaimer here, because this is obviously nothing more than fanfiction.

.

* * *

Red and blue lights are flashing all around. Police officers are everywhere. I feel so detached from myself and what's happening around me. Hanna is crying next to me and I absently rub her arm here and there.

I pride myself in my "Hastings wit", yet when it comes to things like this, I'm at a loss for words. I'm not sure how to truly comfort someone, especially when Caleb might not make it. I wouldn't dare voice this aloud, but he didn't look good. I'm wavering back and forth between simply standing next to Hanna and leaning against her back. Aria was on the other side of her, also comforting as best she could. We're all trying to understand the situation.

I continue to glance back and forth between the ambulance and Emily speaking to some officers. She looks so out of it, and the blood smeared across her shirt is a terrifying reminder of what had just transpired in that lighthouse. Caleb is fighting for his life right now and there's a boy lying just beyond who is dead.

A boy who was a liar and a monster, but still just a boy. And he's now dead. I had just seen him not that long ago. I don't know what all happened yet since the police haven't given us a chance to talk to Emily and it's frustrating.

I briefly look at Paige who's also talking to an officer. She doesn't look as lost as Emily does, but she definitely doesn't look good either. I can't think about that right now and what her being here means.

I hate this feeling. It's so surreal. This isn't the first time we've dealt with police and it's certainly not the first murder in this town, but this is a whole other level. It doesn't feel real. I feel like an outsider just watching, like I'm not really here. Maybe that's how Emily feels right now. It's certainly how she looks.

She keeps looking at us and is becoming more and more anxious. It's making me feel anxious. I know she wants to come to us, but she can't. I want her here too. She's always the best at comforting people, especially Hanna. I want to know what happened. I mainly just can't stand looking at her like this anymore. Her face is killing me.

It must have been killing Paige too, because I see her rush to Emily's side and begin talking to the officers in her stead. Emily is running then. She comes rushing towards us and I can't even describe the energized relief I feel. She practically slams into Hanna with the force of her fierce hug. I don't even catch the words she says to the blonde who's crying against her.

As relieving as it is to have Emily close now, I can't find it in me to reach for her. I simply stand there stupidly staring at Hanna and Emily embrace, unsure of what to do. I vaguely notice Aria still holding Hanna's arm, not quite there. Now I feel like I'm imposing on something I shouldn't be, which is foolish considering the fact that I'm standing with my three best friends. I just feel like this is Hanna and Emily's moment.

Then I remember why it is they're able to have this moment and turn back to see the officers waking away from Paige. I hadn't really looked at her like anything yet as I couldn't bring myself to do so. I didn't want to think about her, but she's all I can think about now that I'm fully looking at her. She looks so small standing there alone in the middle of all this. She was looking our way and trying to control her breathing. Her makeup had run, making it clear she had probably been crying. Her skin shined in an almost sickly looking way from the light sheen of sweat in the harsh red and blue lights. I couldn't look away from her eyes, staring straight into mine. I never thought I'd see _the_ Paige McCullers look so vulnerable.

And yet, she had never looked so strong.

I was so wrong about her. There were moments where I had a feeling that I was wrong, but I was too stubborn to admit it. I wanted to just end this already. This torture of the mysterious "A" never giving us a chance even to breathe. I can't stand it anymore. They just keep picking and picking at us and I feel like I'm on the verge of losing my mind. All the lies and murders and psychological warfare is wearing me thin. Is this what they did to Ali? Did "A" push her to her breaking point and then they killed her when the game wasn't fun anymore? It's a terrifying thought.

And I feel so ridiculous for thinking Paige could be capable of something like that. Yeah, she hated Alison, but so did most of Rosewood. And yeah, Paige could be pretty aggressive at times, but she had never been one for mind games. I remember that being something that both annoyed me and I admired back when we played field hockey together. I wasn't joking when I told Emily that we named a penalty after her, we really did. McBlooders we called it, yet it only happened the one time and the incident is what caused us to come up with the name.

It was another moment in which she looked both vulnerable and strong, though in a very different way.

* * *

_We were playing against Courtland and tensions were high. I hated playing Courtland. A lot of their players liked to make sly comments to get their opponents riled up. It would make them emotional and throw them off their game. Their favorite to target when playing against Rosewood was McCullers. She could be such a hothead and it was bad because she was one of our best players. Once they got her worked up enough, we usually lost. Between all the errors and penalties, McCullers pretty much single-handedly ruined us. It'd make me so angry that it'd often result in a shouting match between the two of us after the game._

_As rough as she was out on the field, McCullers had never hurt me no matter how hard I was on her. Though she looked close a few times. She'd maybe throw something or punch a locker, and sure it was pretty intimidating, but I somehow knew she wouldn't hurt me like that. Even though she was sometimes harder than necessary on me during practice. Whenever she was, she'd always reach her hand out to me with a, "Come on Hastings, shake it off. Your boney ass doesn't fool me. I know you're tougher than that." Her grip was always firm and warm. She had even brushed off my back on a few occasions, always ending with a light pat and an awkward grin._

_McCullers was one of those kids that was mainly bark, though her bite was wild and fierce. She never really backed down when provoked, except with me. And that was only because I'd make her so angry and frustrated that she'd storm away because she'd be ready to explode, practically foaming at the mouth. I never really back down either and only win against her because I can keep my cool longer._

_Then there were the rare moments in which she would genuinely let me win with a smile. It'd confuse and frustrate me so much any time it happened. It's like she was simply in a really good mood and didn't feel like arguing. As frustrating as it was to win that way, I liked when she was in a good mood. She actually looked really attractive when she smiled earnestly. She was more fun to be around too. She was more lighthearted and teasing, often times patting my head._

_I had once admitted that being taller than most girls and some boys my age had made me feel a little insecure growing up. She had sympathized as she practically towered over a good number of our peers as a kid and doesn't seem to be done growing just yet. She's actually about an inch taller than I am which is why she picked up the habit of patting my head when she felt playful. It was like she was reminding me that I was smaller than her and needn't worry so much._

_This is why I was so very angry that we were playing Courtland this day. McCullers had patted my head, even lightly ruffling up my hair in the locker room with a grin before the game. She hopped over the bench I was sitting on and turned to face me, snapping her fingers to point at me saying, "No slacking out there Hastings. I've got my eye on you." She was being silly and seemed really happy, meaning there was a good chance her father wouldn't be watching this game. Only her mother. I learned a lot of times her good moods before a game had something to do with her father's absence. That was another thing I could relate to with her. Our fathers drove that need to win at all costs into our heads and it put a lot of pressure on us when they were watching._

_I noted that Nick McCullers was in fact absent when we went onto the field, though it didn't really matter as we were playing stupid Courtland. Her mood was going to be ruined and we were probably going to lose the game. I felt like I could scream._

_I saw her slowly become more and more agitated throughout the game. The Courtland players said things to our whole team, but they singled out McCullers and were very persistent with her. She hadn't slipped up too badly, but I could tell she was getting close to her breaking point. I never expected that I'd have a part in it though._

_They were actually messing with me, two players having a nasty conversation about me while I tried to keep them away from McCullers who had the ball and was trying to find an opening for a pass._

_"Poor Hastings, the girl's got no chest to speak of. No feminine curves and all gangly. She might as well be a boy."_

_"Oh, Trish, have you seen the way she dresses? She probably wishes she was a boy. I bet she's a huge fag."_

_McCullers was close enough to hear and it's like it happened in slow motion. Her expression changed to as if she'd been sucker punched. It threw her off so badly that her feet caught over themselves right as one of the girls moved in to try and take the ball. It was a hard swing to shoot it across the field to an open teammate, though it never connected with the ball. The stick instead connected with Paige's face on the wild backswing as she went down. It startled the Courtland girl enough that her swing down quickly lost momentum as she turned to see what she had hit._

_McCullers was crumpled up on the ground and I couldn't see her face. I didn't have a good view of where she was hit, but I had definitely heard it. I started shaking and felt cold all over. Goosebumps raised all down my arms and my stomach felt uneasy. She was holding her eye and even though she was turned away from me, I could see blood on her hand. The whistle blew somewhere, but I only vaguely acknowledged it. I heard yelling, but didn't really focus on any of the words. I was frozen in place staring at McCullers, willing her to get up and be okay. She could have just lost an eye and I was too terrified to move. All I could think of was her grinning at me just over half an hour ago in the locker room and the weight of her hand on top of my head._

_The Courtland girls seemed unable to move as well, staring dumbly down at the bleeding girl. One of them stuttered out, "H-Hey, you okay?"_

_It was the girl that said I was probably a "fag". It must have stirred something in McCullers as she somehow moved over to the girl so fast I hardly knew what was going on. As McCullers came up off the ground on her knees, she grabbed a hold of the girl's shirt, dragging her down into the fist McCullers drove up. The combined momentum of McCullers flying up and the Courtland girl flying down to meet that fist caused her to collapse, gasping for air._

_The whistle was blowing again, though more frantically this time. Even on her knees, McCullers seemed to tower over the girl on the ground. I still didn't see her face very well, but I could see blood smeared all over and dripping from her chin. The skin on a face is actually really thin and tends to bleed excessively, even if the injury itself isn't too horrible. But that fact didn't calm my nerves at all. The sight of so much blood actually scared me more, no matter how I tried to rationalize it to myself._

_I noticed that McCullers was trembling and it was then that I saw how tight her fists were at her sides, covered in more blood. She had her shoulders drawn and looked ready to hit the Courtland girl again, but was trying to fight it. True fear gripped me then. Aggressive plays yeah, but I had never actually seen McCullers __**hit**__ someone before now. She hit her hard too. And she seemed to be struggling with herself not to do it again. Was it because of what the girl said about me? Did it really bother McCullers that badly? Or was it just everything that's been said all piled up and the blow to the head left her temporarily insane?_

_I cautiously approached her and timidly asked, "McCullers?"_

_She whipped around, still on the offensive, until she saw it was me. The action startled me, making me flinch. Her expression immediately softened and I could be wrong, but it looked like there were tears in her eyes. She whispered, "I'm sorry," to me in the most broken and pleading way I had ever heard from her. I felt like my heart was being crushed. She looked so much worse when I got a full view of her face. I stepped closer and leaned over her, studying the actual wound. It wasn't as awful as I'd thought, but it would require stitches. I brought my hand up, just barely grazing her brow near the injury. She winced slightly and it caused me to look down and into her eyes._

_People were surrounding us at this point, but I ignored them and didn't break eye contact. I whispered as soothingly as I could, "Let's get you cleaned up."_

* * *

I'm once again unable to break eye contact with Paige as she looks so vulnerable. I better understand now why she reacted so badly to what that girl said. Alison had found out about Paige's sexuality and had made her hate herself for it. It had been a touchy subject for Paige for a long time. I wonder now if she was projecting her hatred of Alison on that girl or her hatred of herself. She may have even been standing up for me in a way no one had for her, not wanting me to feel the way she did if I was in fact gay.

I make a split decision, something I'm not known for, and grab hold of the police tape in front of me. I lift it as high as it'll allow and go under, making my way towards Paige. She looks confused and even nervous as I walk straight towards her, my eyes never leaving her face. I had accused her of some pretty horrible things recently, so she probably assumes I'm marching over to continue the war. I try to relax my face as not to seem so intimidating, I was staring pretty intently at her. I'm not good at this.

I release a shuddering breath and look down at my feet for a brief second once I'm standing in front of her. My head is still down, but I glance up and look into her eyes once more. I try my best to be as sincere as I can when I whisper to her, "I'm sorry."

Paige looks so overwhelmed with emotion that I can't even say what all I see in her eyes. She swallows thickly as tears begin to gather in her eyes which she tries to blink away. She dips her head, unable to look at me any longer and I see the tears drip and fall away. I raise a shaky hand and lightly run my fingertips across her brow, pausing at the scar there. I study it a moment, then feel a small twitch of my lips as a thought occurs to me. I gently whisper to her, "Let's get you cleaned up."


	2. Brave and Protective

.

Author's notes: The hinting at possible romantic feelings becomes more apparent in this one.

You may notice the chapter titles. They're simple, though they sum up what Spencer comes to realize are traits Paige has. I plan for each chapter to be labeled that way, indicating things Spencer appreciates about her.

There's a _tiny _smidgen of Spalison I felt needed to be incorporated as well. I plan to come back to it later after she's revealed to be alive. We all know how Alison treated people and how it affected quite a few of them (kids like Paige especially). It stirs some obviously conflicted feelings in Spencer.

On another note, thank you so much for your likes, follows and reviews! I hope I didn't make you wait too long for an update!

.

* * *

My heart is beating so fast it feels like it could explode. My chest hurts from all my labored breathing. I'm frantically pulling at the door to the next compartment before me, but it won't open. I'm terrified and I can't think clearly. All I can do is pull on the door, willing it to open and allow me to continue running as fear consumes me.

I had run this far from whom I can only assume is "A" dressed as the Queen of Hearts, but there's only so far you can go on a train. I feel their hand on the back of my head, slamming my face against the door's window. All I can do now is fight and try to run back the way I came, though I'm not sure I'll be able to.

I spin around and try to get them off me, but the quick jab of their fist at my kidneys takes the fight out of me. Before I'm even able to curl up to protectively shield myself from another blow, "A" throws me into the wall opposite the door and their hands are on my throat again. I vainly struggle to push them away, but they're too strong for me, especially with the pain in my side, lungs and throat.

I must be doing well enough that they need to weaken me even more though because whoever it is throws me against another wall and my legs give out beneath me. Sliding down the wall with my back in the corner, all I can see is "A" towering over me. I think of a million things I'll never say or do. I think of my friends and my family. I think of Toby. And oddly enough, my mind wanders to Paige. I wonder if she'll ever know how sorry I am. I hadn't really spoken much to her since the night she was nearly murdered. I lost my nerve.

I feel "A's" hands close in around my throat once more, though I've lost most of my strength to fight back. I briefly wonder if an afterlife truly exists. I once believed it was silly to think so, but after Alison's body was found I wanted to believe she had simply gone somewhere else. I feared I was going crazy, so I never told anyone, but I saw her one night. She talked to me and it felt so real, like she was really there.

I still remember the feeling of Ali's hand tucking my hair behind my ear. I _felt_ it. There was so much I wanted to say to her, to ask her, but she was gone before I knew it. As quickly as she had appeared, she left again.

I want to believe that I'll see her when I leave this world. That she can't disappear again and I can ask her everything I want to know. That I _need_ to know. And I can tell her how angry I am at her. That her death was probably her own fault. I can tell her what a horrible person she was. How much I hated her. I can tell her how much she hurt me and how badly I've missed her. I can tell her how much I loved her. How much I still love her, yet I can't for the life of me figure out why.

Perhaps she and I were just programmed this way by our dysfunctional families. We love what hurts us, and we hurt what loves us. She was the only person I could ever be truly cruel to because she gave it right back. We could say the most awful things to each other, yet I knew she would always be there for me if I needed her. The thing I regret most is that my last words to her were hateful. Ironic even, as I said she was 'dead to me', only for her to die that night. I want to believe I'll see her again so I can tell her I didn't mean that.

It won't be long until I find out I suppose, I feel my arms losing strength. My chest feels like it's on fire due to the lack of oxygen. Thoughts are becoming muddled and my muscles are becoming less responsive. My body is beginning to shut down and I almost feel disconnected from it.

Then those hands are quickly and forcefully snatched away from me. My forehead makes contact with one of the walls my body is pressed against and my hair falls around my face. The surface is cool and shocking to my system, waking me up a bit. I'm gasping for air and I find myself unable to move, a mixture of physical weakness and fear keeping me in place. I'm still a little disoriented, though I can hear the faint grunts and thumps of a struggle. Someone is fighting off "A". Someone feminine from the sound of it.

I both hear and feel someone slam against the wall close to me. It's the girl, judging by the pained sound next to me. I begin to worry then, trying to gather my strength. Who would come rushing in to fight for me? A girl even. All I can think of is Emily. Loyal, protective Emily who never bats an eye and goes rushing into danger for others. And now she's as much at this monster's mercy as I am. But there are two of us and one of them.

I push away from the wall, ready to go again and try to overpower "A" with Emily's help, though I'm surprised by what I see when I finally look over. The person in the Queen of Hearts costume had apparently run away and sitting next to me is not Emily.

It's Paige.

She's looking after whoever was in that costume escaping and I vaguely reach towards her, afraid she may actually try to chase them down. She must have noticed me move because she quickly whipped around and moved closer to me. It was both reassuring and upsetting seeing such a look of worry on her face. I'm still struggling to breath properly and my nerves are so bad I'm on the verge of crying. I won't allow myself to cry though, that would only worry Paige more. I feel a little uncomfortable under her intense gaze.

"Are you okay?" she asks in a rush. All I can do is nod my head in response. "Who was that?" she asks this time, turning and looking towards the direction "A" ran again before looking back at me.

I feel myself getting closer to breaking down and crying as I answer, "I don't know."

"No, stay put. Stay put," she says to me. I don't know what I'm doing. I can't stop shaking and I can't get a hold of myself. Is this what a panic attack feels like? I can feel her grasp my arm, telling me, "It's okay."

I don't feel okay, but I won't say so. I'm trying to move away and I'm not even sure why. Her concern almost feels suffocating, yet I want more at the same time. I want more from her, but I shouldn't be asking Paige to comfort me. We aren't close like that and she had already done enough just by saving me.

"No, no, no," she says, keeping me there and reaching for my hair. She pulls out something red and examines it, though I don't really care about that right this very moment. I can finally feel my heart beginning to slow back down, though my head still isn't quite right. There are so many things swirling around in my mind and I hear Paige's voice asking me, 'are you okay' over and over again.

There's only one other time I can think of that Paige McCullers had asked me if I were okay. She had "protected" me then too.

* * *

_It was the middle of a field hockey game against Bryn Mawr. I typically didn't mind playing them as they were good competition, though one of their players was known to get a little rough sometimes. The girl reminded me some of McCullers in a way. She had a temper, but she wasn't cruel or anything. She simply became a bit more aggressive on the field when she was angry. It's like she was trying to vent, slamming her body into opposing players._

_That didn't mean it didn't get on my nerves though._

_Unfortunately, it seemed it was going to be one of those days with that girl. I don't know what set her off, but she was smashing through Rosewood players every chance she got. She even shouldered one of her own teammates. I wonder if maybe she was mad at that girl because I saw them talking quietly and quite heatedly later on the field. She did glare at her teammate on more than one occasion throughout the game._

_It was just really irritating me that the girl was taking her anger out on us, so when she came barreling through with the ball in my direction, I stood ready to shove her right back. I stared her down waiting, and when she got close, I charged. I put all my weight into my shoulder as I knocked her aside and took the ball. I didn't get far as I felt something hard connect with my shin which sent me down in a matter of seconds._

_God, that hurt. Pain shot all through my leg and it was debilitating. I laid there and quickly realized it was the girl's field hockey stick that struck me. I was immediately filled with more anger than I had ever felt. Where was the whistle? That Bryn Mawr girl had actually hit me with her stick! Why hadn't the damn whistle gone off?!_

_I couldn't contain it. Sitting there, holding my shin, I screamed with as much rage as I could muster, "What the hell was that?!"_

_I glared at the referee and continued, "Didn't you freaking see that?! She struck me with her stick!"_

_"Bullshit!" I heard yelled just as fiercely as I had been. The girl had stopped playing and came marching back towards me. I scrambled to my feet, glaring as best as I could at her through the pain throbbing in my leg._

_"Language!" the ref shouted as he vaguely moved in our direction, "Break it up girls. I didn't see anything, Hastings, so I can't call it."_

_"What do you mean you didn't see anything?!" I barked at him, "Where the hell were you looking?! Look at my leg!" I motioned at the already swollen knot that was beginning to take on a sickly color, bruising rapidly._

_I angrily pointed at the Bryn Mawr player and continued, "That bitch struck me with her stick!"_

_I didn't even see her move, but I felt the rough shove on my back and shoulder. It caused the pain in my leg to intensify and I went tumbling down towards the ground once again. I heard the stupid whistle then, with the referee shouting, "Hey! Hey! Knock it off! Off the field Anderson! You're done!"_

_The girl didn't even have a chance to protest because as I looked up, I saw a blur slam into her and the two of them landed hard against the ground across from me. The whistle was blowing repeatedly and the ref started running towards us. I realized it was McCullers when she pushed herself up from the girl's back who was laying face first in the grass. She grabbed a hold of the Bryn Mawr player's arm, twisting it behind the girl's back and yanking it up, putting pressure on the joint attaching it to her shoulder. The girl was crying out in pain and McCullers held the girl's head down with her hand, yelling angrily down at her, "Don't dish it out if you can't take it!"_

_The referee started pulling McCullers off the girl then, trying to separate them. He was looking pretty mad at this point himself, "That's enough! You too McCullers! You're done! Go sit this out!"_

_Shrugging him off, McCullers didn't even pass the girl a second glance as she looked down at me and offered me her hand. There was an intensity in her eyes that I'd never seen before and it was startling. She was breathing heavily through her nose and I could tell she was still angry, though trying to ignore it. Her voice is kinder than I expected from her expression as she asked, "Are you okay, Hastings? Do you think you can walk?"_

_I saw the ref move to better look at my leg through my peripheral vision, as if he just remembered what started the fight. I grasped McCullers' hand and her grip was as firm as always, though she didn't simply pull me up like she typically did. She leaned down and gently hooked her other hand under my other arm, slowly helping me to my feet._

_"You should sit the rest of this game out, Hastings," the referee said sympathetically, "Go get that looked at. Do you need help getting off the field?"_

_I glanced out of the corner of my eye at McCullers who's arm was wrapped around my waist, stabilizing me and allowing me to lean my weight against her instead of my injured leg. I shook my head, anger disappearing and becoming replaced with some foreign feeling I couldn't fully grasp. Appreciation perhaps? It was similar, though that wasn't quite it._

_Safety. That's what it was. I felt safe feeling McCullers' body so close, protectively holding me against her. Yet there was still a nagging feeling I didn't understand..._

_"McCullers is going the same way I am. She can just help me," I replied, then looked to see if she was actually willing to do so. I kind of volunteered her without asking, but I had a feeling she wouldn't mind._

_She nodded her head firmly and I felt her hand on my waist tighten as she lightly grabbed my wrist, swinging my arm around her shoulders. She just barely nudged my body forward with her own, prompting me to take the lead. I started a slow hobble towards the Rosewood's team benches, McCullers patiently helping me along. As much as it felt good to see someone knock that Bryn Mawr girl down a peg, I couldn't quell the need to fuss at my teammate. Glancing at her again, I muttered, "That was stupid you know. Why did you do that? Now you've been benched."_

_Shrugging halfheartedly, causing my arm to rise with her shoulders, McCullers turned her head to look at me slightly, "I don't really care," she stated honestly. I furrowed my brow and waited for her to elaborate._

_She looked forward again, furrowing her own brow, "We're a team, and nobody messes with this team," she said a little gruffly. I noticed a faint blush dusting her cheeks and realized she was embarrassed. She had acted without really thinking. Her eye caught mine and I saw the same intensity as before and I was stunned when she whispered, "I won't let them."_

_I wasn't sure how to respond, so I turned my attention to the ground ahead of me. I felt hot all over and a little uncomfortable, though I wasn't sure why. Something about her words and expression just hit me strangely. Her eyes made it seem like the words themselves meant more than what they were, if that made sense. I felt like I should thank her, though it just felt weird to actually do so. What exactly would I be thanking her for anyway? Attacking the Bryn Mawr girl? That's pretty much all she did. That and help me move around. But it felt like it was more than that. It felt like it _meant_ more than that._

_I didn't really understand, so I let it go. Subtly studying McCullers' face as she helped me sit on the bench, I tried to figure out at least what she may have been thinking, but I couldn't. She quickly moved away as people surrounded me, assessing my injury. I wanted to ask her to stay, but I didn't like how that sounded. Weak and needy. I'm a Hastings. But I was in pain and I was confused. I just knew I felt better, safer, when McCullers was close to me. And now she moved to sit on a different bench, away from me and all the people crowding me. The feeling of loss is what confused me most._

* * *

It still confused me honestly, because I felt that little pang as Emily and Hanna found us, reminding us that Aria was still missing. I couldn't linger in the comfort and safety of Paige's company any longer, even though I never summoned the nerve to actually ask for it. Her presence alone had helped calm me quite a bit, though I wonder idly if it'd be more soothing if I had maybe hugged her. That'd probably have scared her really. The Spencer Hastings hugging none other than Paige McCullers? She'd probably think I'd lost my mind.

I'm following after my friends, ready to hunt for my other half of Team Sparia, but I can't find it in me to go far from Paige without saying something. Anything.

I quickly turn around and call out to her, "Paige?"

She turns too, looking at me expectantly, and I realize that I hadn't really planned out what to say. I'm standing there just staring at her for a brief moment, soaking in the sight of her. Paige really did look good in a suit. Not every girl could pull it off as beautifully and handsomely as Paige McCullers. I dare say she looks _dashing _even, as lame as that sounds. I'll have to remember to mention to Emily that she should try to encourage Paige to wear suits more often. She tended to when she dressed up, though that didn't happen often enough in my opinion.

"Thank you," I blurt out, trying to end the silence that I was beginning to feel a little awkward about. It wasn't a very long silence, though my thoughts made it feel more drawn out than it was.

"It was a pleasure," she easily says to me. The awkward feeling intensifies and I smile as best I can, watching her turn back around and continue on her way. I feel my facial muscles pulling oddly as I continue to flicker back and forth with a confused smile. I feel like I did back then when she spoke to me. My skin feels flushed and my insides are churning with an uncomfortableness settling over me. I don't understand it and I don't like it. I don't like seeing her pull away from me, but I don't even know how to ask for comfort. Paige isn't the person I should be asking anyway.

I begin turning, keeping my eyes on Paige as long as I can, until I have to turn my head with my body and make my way towards my friends. Aria needs me right now. Emily and Hanna need me. I'm a Hastings. I am not weak and I am not needy. I keep going strong and get the job done.

Though that feeling of loss lingers on.


	3. Exceptionally Kind and Determind

.

Author's notes: You may notice that Spencer has at least a tiny moment in each chapter in which she thinks about Alison. It's a McHastings story, though Spalison is very important (not romantically or anything). I already know how I want the last chapter to be, Alison's importance really comes into play then. I've planned out seven chapters total with a general idea of what I want them to entail. (Thank you for your kind words of encouragement people!)

This chapter I made up entirely, while all others except for the last one are all based on a canon occurrence. I just wanted this too much to not write it. It turned out like twice as long as the others so far, sooo... Enjoy? It's also a little more scattered and "moody" this chapter because it is in Spencer's perspective. It will be much more so in the next chapter with her thoughts somewhat broken in places. (I'm sure you can guess what state of mind she's in for that one.)

.

* * *

I'm listlessly walking through these stark white hallways, following closely behind my new found "friend" Eddie Lamb. I wanted to stay in my room, but I apparently have a visitor and Eddie insisted I go say hello. That it's the "nice" thing to do. If I want out sooner, I have to prove that I'm "sane" enough to leave. I don't even know anymore.

Oh, how I applaud you "A". I said it, didn't I? These games you play... It truly drove me mad. You took him from me, and it was the straw that broke the camel's back. It broke my heart and I don't know what's left of me. I don't know how to put myself back together again. There's this hole in me. This darkness. It's swirling around and I can't find my way out. It's consumed me.

I liked it better as "Jane Doe". I liked when none of my friends and family knew where I was, what's become of me. I wanted this feeling to fester in me, to stay lost. But they won't let me. They come and they see me and try to make me "better". As if a few choice words would fix everything. There's nothing _to_ fix. Toby's dead. I'm done. "A" won. I don't want to "play" anymore. I quit. I can't stand to see anyone else I love's lifeless body.

The worst part is, no one believes me. I _saw_ it. I saw _him_. I don't know where his body went, but "A" obviously took it.

Then I saw her. I saw Mona in the woods. I never wanted to hurt someone so badly. In that moment, I probably could have killed her. I wanted to kill her.

But I lost sight of her. The rage subsided and I was left with the sorrow once more. My desire to kill her scared me. It scares me that I could be pushed that far. It scares me that anyone I care about is a target in this "game". It scares me as much as it hurts me that Toby is dead and it's my fault.

It's my fault.

And they tell me to "get better" as if I have a cold. There is no way for that to happen. This is the new me. I don't want to "get better". I can't.

I'm coming closer to the visiting area now and I'm dreading it. He said one of my friends came to see me, but I can't stand the way they look at me. Their faces are so full of pity that it angers me. They're a little more understanding than my family since they know the full story, but it doesn't stop them from their "get well soons". I don't want to hear that. I like it better when they don't talk much. I just want them to sit close to me. I just want to feel them there.

Turning the corner, I stop in my tracks as I see who's sitting to one of the visitation tables. She has to be the "friend" that came to see me as none of my friends are actually here. The only visitor in the room that I personally recognize is Paige. Why would she come see me?

She's sitting there, nervously messing with her hands while scanning the room. She spots me and quickly jumps to her feet, wiping her hands down the front of her jeans. She smiles at me awkwardly and I furrow my brow in confusion. Eddie is still standing with me and motions for me to go over to Paige. I force a small smile at him, though I'm sure it looks closer to a grimace. As if I didn't already have enough people here making me feel frustrated and uncomfortable, now Paige McCullers (who makes me feel weird and uncomfortable to begin with) is here to talk to me. Why?

Stiffly making my way over to the table, Paige looks to become more and more nervous as I approach. Is she regretting coming now? I wouldn't blame her. A part of me is happy to see her though. Well, it's equal parts happiness and unease, really. I've never really been alone with her like anything. The team or coach was always around when we played together. Then I didn't really see her or talk to her anymore when she signed up for swimming instead the next year. I still don't even know why she quit field hockey. Now, I see her because she's dating one of my best friends, but it's not like I talk to her a whole lot. I keep telling myself I should, but something holds me back. For some reason, the idea of truly befriending Paige terrifies me and I don't know why.

Being alone with Paige terrifies me. I don't know why that is either. I feel my own nervousness escalating the closer I get to her. I notice she's rubbing her hands on her pants again. She's probably sweating and doesn't know what to do with herself. I stop and stand close to the table, within reach of the chair across from Paige's. I study her face and literally see her swallow as she looks back. She awkwardly clears her throat and lamely starts, "H-Hey... Spencer."

I vaguely nod my head to her in acknowledgement, grasping the back of the chair in front of me. She vigorously nods in turn, quickly sitting back down in her seat. Her face is flushed and I clench my jaw. I feel a smile trying to fight it's way through, but I refuse to let it. I like seeing her like this and I idly wonder if that makes me a bad person. I like seeing her flushed and uncomfortable. I like _making_ her that way.

I slowly drag the chair back, my attention never leaving her face even though she won't make eye contact, and sit down across from her. Her hands are in her lap and she's leaning forward in her seat. I can tell she's lightly biting at the inside of her lip anxiously and her eyes find mine for a brief second before looking away again. She glances down at her lap and her tone is nonchalant as she tries again, "Sooo... Um," her eyes flicker up to look at me and she becomes silent for a few moments. Letting out a heavy sigh, she leans back in her seat and grumbles, "I didn't really think this through..."

"When have you ever?" I quip, unable to contain myself. I feel a smirk tugging at my lips as I see her blush intensify.

She relaxes instantly, shifting to grin at me. Her own tone is smug as she shoots back, "It's called passion, Hastings. Just go with the heat of the moment."

I can't fight the smile now. I hadn't realized how much I missed this. How much I missed our banter. Just the way she says _Hastings_ reminds me of another time and place. It's funny, we were closer when we were on a last name basis than first.

Bringing my hands up onto the table and lacing my fingers, leaning forward slightly, I easily say, "So, was it the heat of the moment that brought you here?" I'll admit, my tone may have been a tad flirtatious. It's just in my nature to be that way with everyone really.

Looking away, almost guiltily, Paige nearly whispers, "Yes."

Her bluntness never ceases to stun me. Perhaps I'm too accustomed to lies, drawn out truths and double meanings. To say I'm surprised by her answer would be an understatement. That familiar uncomfortableness settles over me and I'm sure I'm the one blushing now. I'm at a loss for words, unsure of how I should take such a reply. I'm the one nearly whispering now with a simple, "Oh."

Placing her own hands on the table, palms down, Paige looked at me pleadingly. She asked, "Look, could you do me a favor?"

Now I'm really confused, raising a judgmental eyebrow. She looks down and shifts in her seat, strums her fingers across the table, then quickly stops again. Glancing up at me, her head still down, she softly implores me, "Don't tell Emily I came here."

Knitting my brows together, I lean further forward and place my own hands palm down on the table, though my posture is clearly more aggressive. I take a hard look at her and demand, "Why?"

Shrinking back in her seat slightly, Paige visibly swallows once again. She brings her fingers together and studies them as if they're the most interesting thing in the world. She tries to start several times with, "She- Well, um..."

Bringing her hands under the table, I could tell she was wiping them on the front of her jeans again as she looked away. She sighs and looks like she deflates as she does so, she even sounds defeated, "She asked me not to."

Now I'm a little bit angry and I'm not sure why. Drawing my fingers up into fists, I sit up taller and study her face. She's clearly not lying (I had learned years ago that Paige was a terrible liar and had obvious ticks when she tried) though it just seems strange.

"Why would she ask that? And why would you do it anyway?" I didn't mean for my voice to sound as harsh as it did, to sound so accusing. I guess I'm mad at Emily for telling Paige not to come, though I don't understand why. And I guess I'm mad at Paige for going behind Emily's back and doing what she asked her not to do. I don't know. My emotions have been out of whack. This place makes me feel more hostile.

Paige looks frustrated now as she practically glares at me. She sits up straighter and tries, failing once again, to explain herself, "She- She didn't- Ugh!" roughly rubbing her face, Paige lets out an irritated sigh and throws her back against her chair. She drops her arms to her sides and lets them limply hang there as she does in fact glare at me, "Why are you always like this? You're so confrontational. I was just worried about you dammit! Am I not allowed?!"

My face falls as I let out my own sigh. She didn't really answer my questions, but it didn't look like she wanted to. It nags at me, though the fact that she was worried and came to check on me made me feel... calmer I suppose. I fold my arms across the table and lean down to rest my head on them. I'm a jumble of thoughts and feelings and it gets unbearable at times. It's not so chaotic and aggressive now, but I need a moment.

It must have worried her more though as I felt a hesitant hand stroking my hair. She whispers sincerely to me, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout."

I smile against my arms and I laugh silently to myself. This is a mess. I'm a mess. She's a mess. We're a mess. I'm in a freaking loony bin and Paige McCullers is stroking my hair. I've really lost it. I feel tears well up in my eyes and I'm shaking my head, but I don't know why.

I both hear and feel Paige move her chair closer to me, then I feel her hand on my back this time. It was surer than before as she rubs slow circles there. I close my eyes and feel safer to cry with my face hidden, so I remain this way for a good few minutes. She's silent the whole time, steadily rubbing my back soothingly. It makes me feel like a child, but I don't really mind. I actually remember watching her console a child once.

* * *

_Sunday service had just ended and Alison and I were walking down the church steps. We typically went together, though I'm not sure why Alison even bothered. Half the time she just made fun of the people there. Like she was doing right in that moment._

_"Oh my god," she whispered to me full of amusement, clinging to my arm. Gesturing with her eyes she continued, "What is that woman wearing? Did she get dressed in the dark this morning?"_

_I looked to the elderly woman Ali was referring to and I had to admit, her dress was hideous. But I wouldn't give Alison the satisfaction of knowing I agreed with her. Instead, I decided to ask, "Why do you even go to church?"_

_Smiling that signature Alison DiLaurentis smile, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and her tone was ever playful, "I'm just here to score some brownie points with God. The beautiful and fabulous die young, sweetheart. I need to ensure my ticket into Heaven."_

_Gawking at her, I nearly stuttered, "Alison!" I quickly looked around to make sure no one heard her before continuing, "That's... sacrilegious! That's not how it works. And what is it with you and romanticizing death?"_

_Shrugging her shoulders, Ali got a distant look in her eye as she simply said, "Who's to say how it really works? It's just a dusty old book. It might not be like that at all. I want my bases covered just in case though," tilting her head to grin at me, her voice was light and easy, "You never know, and the only certain thing in life is inevitable death."_

_Loosely linking our arms, Ali's grin widened into a full smile, "And when I die, I want a rocking funeral. I want all of Rosewood there to recognize how great I was," leaning forward to clearly look at me, her eyes were guarded despite her smile, "You'll make sure of that won't you, Spence? You'll make sure I'm not forgotten."_

_Lightly furrowing my brow, uncertain of what to say, I nodded and agreed, "Sure, Ali. If you die before me, I'll plan your funeral. But if I die before you, you have to plan mine."_

_She seemed to like my answer, her eyes softening the tiniest bit, though I still couldn't figure out what she was thinking. She had been getting more and more confusing and odd lately. Her phone started vibrating and she tensed slightly against me. She pulled it out and quickly checked her text so I couldn't see. Shoving it back in her purse, she lightly squeezed my arm and winked at me, "I've got somewhere to be! Later Spence!"_

_She disentangled herself from me and began walking away immediately. A little shocked and irritated (she'd just ditch me like that sometimes and I don't know why, it was like something else came up) I called after her, "Sure, whatever! I'll just walk home alone then!"_

_Alison whipped around and scrunched up her nose with a silly grin, bringing her hands together to make a heart at me. I rolled my eyes and grumbled, finding myself smiling and vaguely waving a goodbye. She had become a little more self conscious of leaving me angry lately too. It's like she wanted to make sure I wasn't mad at her whenever she left me. One time she even refused to leave until she made me laugh. I wasn't sure what this new game of hers was, but I couldn't say I minded it. It wasn't like her new fixation with death. That kind of scared me a little really._

_Satisfied, she turned back and continued on her way. I wished I was wearing pants instead of a dress, I wanted to put my hands in the pockets. I felt kind of exposed standing there a little ways away from the church. I suddenly felt a bit chilled being alone, watching Alison walk away from me. I felt silly for it, but for whatever reason, I didn't want Alison going where ever it was she was going. I wanted her to stay with me and we go home together. I felt uneasy standing there, like someone was watching me._

_I looked back at the church, some people lingering just outside it to talk among themselves, and wanted to go back. It felt safer being there. It was illogical, just a paranoid feeling, but I couldn't help it. I didn't want to be alone._

_After a small internal debate with myself over how foolish it was to cave into unfounded emotions, I finally hugged myself lightly and began walking again. I didn't turn towards home, nor did I turn towards the church. I couldn't shake the feeling and didn't want to walk all the way home, but I wouldn't allow myself to be ruled by it and go back to the church like a scared child. Instead, I decided to compromise by heading to the Grille for something to eat. I wasn't overly hungry, but I could still order something small. I just wanted to stay in the company of others without having to actually talk to anyone._

_I ended up simply ordering a flat bread sandwich, taking a seat in the back with a good view of the restaurant. I ate slowly and continued to linger in my seat for awhile after I was finished. I mulled over lots of things in my head, focusing mainly on academics. I had an essay due soon and even though I had already finished it, I wanted to read over it again and add a few things. You can never try too hard or write too much in an essay._

_Unless your teacher specifically tells you that while it was concise and well done, you really didn't need to write that much and they give you a word limit to work with. Two of my teachers have done that._

_Putting something in my stomach with the added time and distance from that place helped to ease my nerves. I didn't want to sit doing nothing in the Grille any longer, but I still wasn't ready to head home. A cup of coffee sounded good (a cup of coffee pretty much always sounded good honestly) so I made my way to the Brew. Supersize drip, three sugars, oh how I love you. I was tired of sitting around though, so I took my coffee to go. I just wandered around Rosewood for awhile and somehow found my way to the field hockey... field. It sounds a bit redundant really._

_My coffee was empty, so I moved to throw it away. I quickly noticed I wasn't alone though, and felt the need to hide my presence. McCullers was on the field with a girl who looked a bit younger than us. I recognized the girl from church, but I didn't actually know her name. I had seen McCullers around town with younger kids before, though I never really stopped to watch her with them. She was something like a counselor or aid or something for the church's Sunday School. Her father being the deacon and all, it was kind of expected of her. She seemed to go above and beyond with it though, taking the time to individually hang out and help the kids with things outside of the church._

_It seemed she was trying to show the girl something about field hockey. The girl was a cute little blonde, maybe around ten, and listening to McCullers as if she were a saint. McCullers was having the girl swing and she'd comment on it, though I couldn't hear what she was saying. She patted the blonde's back, then took the field hockey stick to show her how to do it properly. I felt a smile tugging at my lips as I watched her pass the stick back to watch the girl try again._

_I silently watched them for a bit, hiding behind the safety of my favorite tree there. I often sat there after practice was over and I didn't feel like leaving yet. It was a distance from the field so I was unable to hear anything McCullers and the younger girl talked about, but I could see them well enough. Just looking at McCullers put me even more at ease. I found myself relaxing under the tree and simply admiring her._

_While she tended to have little patience with people our own age, she appeared to do well with kids. I could tell that girl thought very highly of my teammate, maybe even looked up to her. It sent an unexpected feeling of warmth through me. I saw the way McCullers smiled and laughed, encouraging the little blonde, and it reminded me of those moments in the locker room in which she was in a really good mood. Her silly, playfulness being a little infectious. I realized I was smiling as I watched her ruffle up the girl's hair. She had done that to me too._

_I leaned my head back against the tree and was beginning to realize more and more that McCullers' behavior with the younger girl reminded me a bit of her behavior with me at times. She wasn't really like that much with anyone else our age that I could think of. Just me._

_So what did that mean? Did she think of me like a child or something? I furrowed my brow in thought and slight irritation._

_I studied her face and noticed how carefree she truly was standing out there. How much she appeared to honestly be enjoying herself. She was having fun teaching the girl and seemed to like the girl's company if how often she looked like she was laughing was any indication. The little blonde must be clever and have a good sense of humor._

_The sudden realization made me feel hot all over. She acted the same with me as she was with this girl because she enjoyed our company. She wasn't treating me like a child, she was treating me as someone she liked. Almost like a friend. Paige McCullers thought of me like a friend. I don't know why, but it meant more to me than I could put into words._

_It was over in a quick matter of seconds, the warmth and peaceful moment was shattered. Another girl who looked close in age to the blonde was standing at the edge of the field talking. Whatever she said, it was obviously hurtful as McCullers' young friend practically shrank in on herself. Taking a bold step forward, McCullers said something back which caused the mean girl to flip her hair over her shoulder and walk away as if she were the king of Pride Rock. That girl reminded me a bit of Alison with the way she carried herself. I didn't like it._

_Alison was my friend, but I know the kinds of cruel things she said. She said them to and about McCullers too. And now it looked like McCullers' friend had her own Alison. A mean girl who seems to enjoy hurting others. I didn't like it._

_The little blonde kept her head down as McCullers talked to her. Her expression was full of pain and sympathy, watching the younger girl's shoulders shake. The girl must have been crying. McCullers moved closer and rubbed the other girl's back who leaned against her tall friend for comfort. I don't even know the girl, but it upset me to watch. It had been so nice before, now I felt kind of angry. McCullers looked it to. With the small girl securely tucked against her, she glared over her head after the mean girl walking away. Something about her eyes told me that whatever that was, it wasn't the first time, though McCullers intended to make it the last._

_Leaning back away from her younger friend, McCullers placed her hands on the girl's shoulders and leaned their faces closer to look in her eyes as she spoke to her. She wiped away the blonde's tears, then stood tall and jogged to catch up with the cruel girl (who was about to be thrown from Pride Rock, I could feel it). They were too far away for me to really even see much of the confrontation, but McCullers clearly won. I don't care if we are older than the girl by something like four years, she was a little bitch and it felt good watching her whip around and storm away from my teammate. As McCullers once said, 'Don't dish it out if you can't take it.'_

_I could see the blonde wiping her eyes as tears must have continued to fall, looking in the direction of her older friend. Turning to face the girl, McCullers flashed her a grin and held up her fingers in a peace sign. I couldn't take it. I covered my mouth and tried my best not to laugh. Only McCullers could have such a moment, to be the dashing knight in shining armor rushing in to slay the beast, then act like a total dork about it. It was so lame, yet I found it so endearing. It made the girl's tears stop as she clearly began laughing herself. Maybe that was the point. She brought back the young girl's smile._

_McCullers walked back over, grabbing the field hockey stick on the way, and slung her other arm across the girl's shoulders. She pulled the little blonde close to her and they began to walk off the field together. I could hear McCullers' light, cheerful tone even though I couldn't make out exactly what she said. Even though there were tears in the smaller girl's eyes, she continued to smile at her friend adoringly. As much as the sight warmed me, there was a slight pang of jealousy._

_Even if McCullers thought of me like a friend, we weren't that close. We weren't close enough for me to seek the kind of comfort from her that she gave that girl. For whatever reason, it made me feel jealous._

* * *

I want Paige to hold me like she held that girl and I've gotten so I care very little about what anyone thinks of me anymore. I feel her hand on my back, but I'm too afraid to speak. I know my voice would crack and sound weak. What's it really matter though? I can't find the nerve either way. I decide I don't need to ask and shift closer to her, keeping my face down so she can't see me cry.

Her response is immediate. Before I even fully lean against her, she's moving to wrap her arms around me and pull me close to her. I bury my face in her chest and hear her heart pounding in my ears. She's so warm and her arms are firm, though gentle. I cry harder and feel her head rest atop of mine. I'm surprised by the warm wetness that runs through my scalp. Paige is crying too, but I don't understand why she would. I feel her arms tighten around me and I move mine around her, lightly grasping the back of her shirt in my fists.

"I can't tell you it'll get better 'cause it won't," she whispers to me, "Just that it should get easier to deal with in time," she pauses and I can feel her faint sigh, "I'm not..." she trails off, sounding uncertain, then remains quiet again.

I slowly relax against her and try to commit this moment to memory. The feeling and sound of her heart so close to me was soothing. I could feel her steady breaths run through my hair. The way she held me didn't make me feel fragile or small, it made me feel safe without feeling inferior. She smelled really good. Like a subtle, fresh men's body wash mixed with soft, sweet vanilla and brown sugar, crisply laundered clothes, and something I couldn't quite place. It was a very inviting smell, making me want to stay there and let it surround me until the scent lingered on my own body.

She must be able to tell I'm not ready for her to pull away even after I've calmed as she continues to hold me, reaching up and now stroking my hair. I sigh heavily and feel myself getting sleepy. I try not to take the pills they give me here, but some of the nurses are stricter and more thorough when searching my mouth to see if I've swallowed them. I have no choice then, and this sometimes taking them, sometimes not messes me with me a bit. I feel tired a lot and I'm already a roller coaster of thoughts and feelings, the pills make it worse.

I don't want to sleep. I want to stay here in her arms. I feel safest like this. I feel like... I could leave here. I don't want her to leave me here, I want to leave with her. But I know I can't. So I need to stay awake so I don't wake up to her gone. I wouldn't be able to handle that.

"I don't really know what you're going through," she starts, her voice still soft, "I just know that... After what happened with Nate, or, well, Lyndon, I guess, I'm not the same as I used to be."

My heart starts beating faster, I'm certainly more awake now. I didn't expect her to talk about that. I'm not exactly sure why she is.

"Sometimes..." she vaguely squeezes me tighter, "Sometimes bad things happen and they test us. We find out that we're not as brave as we thought we were. We're not as strong as we thought we were. There are times that it still gets to me and it makes me feel so weak and stupid. I have nightmares and panic attacks. I have pills in my bag that I'm supposed to take when I get really anxious. They dissolve on your tongue and kinda taste like cardboard. They're not-" she laughs lightly, "They're really not that good. It feels weird just disappearing in my mouth like that too. I don't like them. I just... need them sometimes when I'm not strong enough on my own. It sucks, but... it's not the end of me. I'm still here."

I feel fresh tears pricking in my eyes and I burrow my face into her chest. She shifts and I feel her lips move against the top of my head as she continues, "You're still here, Spencer."

Shaking my head, I try to pull her closer, but it's impossible unless I climb into her lap. I'm not going to do something like that, though it was temping. I just want closer. I don't know what I'm feeling, but I can't stand it.

"This is not the end of you," she says, moving her head to gesture to the room even though I can't see, "So you're not as strong as you thought you were, so what? You haven't lost or anything. You've stumbled and maybe you've fallen, but you are alive. You can always become stronger, you can always get back up, because you are alive. If you need help, ask for it. There are people here who are supposed to help you, but only if you let them. Your friends, they want to help, but they don't know how. I'm right here too."

That feeling intensifies. Hearing her say that she's here for me... I know she is, she is physically _right here _because she was worried about me. But her saying that... It means she cares about me. Paige cares about me.

"Even if all you want is to yell at someone, to cry, to sit in silence, whatever you want, I'm here. Your friends are here. Just let us be. You may not be the same anymore, but that doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. People are always changing, it's part of life. You're alive, Spencer. Don't forget how to live."

I can feel her shifting again as she brings her face closer to me. I feel her breath on my ear and it causes me to shudder slightly as she whispers to me, "I'm glad you're alive."

This feeling is unbearable. I need something from her, but I don't know what. This isn't enough. I lean away from her in order to look at her, but I'm not sure why I suddenly want to see her so badly. I stare into her eyes that have that intensity I've only seen a few other times. She steadily looks right back at me, yet I can't figure out her expression. She reaches up and gently wipes the last of my tears away.

I lean into her hand, making her cup my cheek while holding it in place with my own over hers. I can see something shift in her eyes, but I don't know what it means. She moves closer to me suddenly, and lightly brushes her lips against my forehead, causing my eyes to flutter closed. I feel her faintly exhale across my face as she pulls away and I find myself shuddering once again, my nerves standing on end.

I open my eyes when I feel her taking her hand away. It startles me and I'm not ready for her to stop touching me. I grab for her hand and she smiles sadly at me, not allowing me to pull it back towards me.

"I'm sorry," she truly sounds it too, like it hurts her as much as it hurts me to have her move away from me, "I need to go now. I can visit you again if you want."

She's standing now and I'm panicking. I'm not ready. The jumbled mess is coming back. I don't want her to leave. She makes it better. It's not so hard. I want her to stay. I know she can't, but I want it. I want it so much that I must have become visibly upset because she quickly grabs my hand and whispers worriedly, "Hey, hey, if you want me to come back, I will, but I have to get to swim practice right now. By the time I get out, visitation will be over. I can come tomorrow though, is that okay?"

Clenching my jaw to fight back yet anything damn crying fit, I shake my head. My voice wavers, "N-No. My mother's coming tomorrow."

"Oh, well, that's good. I'm glad you'll be seeing her soon," she says, though it sounds awkward and slightly disappointed.

I shake my head more vigorously. I'm not glad my mother's coming. She makes me feel uncomfortable and pressures me the most to "get better" so I can "come home". I'm dreading seeing her. I know she loves me and is worried, but I don't want her to come.

Paige looks confused and I don't elaborate. Instead, I use my hand that's not in her's to grab a hold of her Rosewood Sharks hoodie sleeve. Seeing this, she sighs slightly, "Spencer..."

She pulls her hand away from me and I bite my lip, my eyes going to the floor. She looks at me a moment, then practically jumps when an idea hits her. She unzips her hoodie and quickly shrugs it off. Holding it in her hand, she still sounds awkward through her obvious lie, "Um, you... you look kinda cold there. Wanna borrow my hoodie? You know, until I... come back or something?"

Flushing at how happy such a simple thing made me, I glance back up at her and nod, too afraid of how lame I'd sound if I spoke. She grins at me and moves to drape it over my shoulders, pausing to lightly pat them.

"So, uh, can you call me?" she asks, I'm sure meaning _am I allowed_ to make phone calls.

"Y-Yeah," I knew I'd sound lame. The warmth from her body lingers on the hoodie and it smells like her. It's a little distracting, though I'm able to make myself focus, "They have phones we can use, but they monitor the calls."

Nodding more to herself than me, it was like Paige was making a mental note about the calls being monitored. I wanted to make sure she knew so nothing "A" related would be discussed. It's not safe.

"Okay, well, do you know my number?"

Shit, I didn't think about that. I've come to rely too heavily on my cell phone. I hear Paige chuckle, so I must have made a face. She starts digging around in her purse, pulling out a pen and a receipt. She looks at me for a brief second and mumbles, "It's the only paper I have," then proceeds to write down her phone number on it. She hands it to me and firmly says, "Call me. Any time you want to talk to me, anytime you want to see me. Just call and I'll be here."

I slowly take it from her with a simple, soft, "Okay."

"I really need to go now or else I'll be late. I'm sorry. I'll see you later though," she says, inching away as she does so. She probably already is late and just doesn't want to make me feel bad about it. I nod to her (I seem to do that a lot) and let her go. I don't really want to, but I stay right where I am and watch her leave.

Pulling the hoodie closer around me, I breath in the smell of Paige and let it try to sooth me. I glance down at her number and flip it over to see where the receipt was from. Smiling despite missing her presence, I note it was from Game Stop. I don't really play video games, but I could easily see Paige playing. She bought a game and some candy. So mature.

I probably won't call her. As much as I want her here, it also confuses me. It stirs feelings in me that I don't really get and they're overwhelming. Maybe it's just because I've come to have such a close connection with my three friends through everything we've been through that I simply don't know how to be friends with anyone else. I don't know what I'm expecting from Paige, but I know deep down that she can't give it to me.

All I really know right now is that she was right. I can be stronger and people change. I haven't lost just yet.


	4. Exceedingly Attractive

.

Author's notes: I gave you the heads up last chapter that this one will be written a bit scattered and "moody" with broken thoughts. I don't think it will be too hard to follow, it's simply the state of mind Spencer is in. It's here, there and everywhere, like her head.

Also, this one is a little NSFW-ish. Emphasis on "ish" as it's not at all graphic.

On another note, thank you all so much for your reviews! They always make me smile.

.

* * *

It's running over and over in my mind... _I figured it out. It's a Trojan horse._

It's brilliant. These tiny little changes in Ali's diary... they're almost unnoticeable. But I noticed. I see it. I'm so close.

I need to tell the others. _I'm so close._

I want to tell them right now, but I decide to take a moment to gather myself. I feel a bit nauseous and in truth, I'm... confused still. I don't really know what just happened. Where I was, what was happening... I don't quite feel here. I'm... I don't know. _I don't know._

The nausea is getting worse. My skin feels greasy and my eyes are heavy. I need a shower.

I stand and head upstairs, taking the diary with me. Even though I know now that we were supposed to find it, I can't help but fear it being taken away again. "A" has teased and tortured us with clues so many times now...

I scan my room in paranoia, moving to close my curtain. Once I feel like it's safe, I kneel down in front of my plush red chair. I lift the cushion and expose the secret compartment, smirking to myself. I slip the diary inside, then put the cushion back.

I stand and begin my trek towards the bathroom, secure in knowing that Ali's diary was now safely hidden. Alison had taught me a lot of things, having a good hiding place was one of them.

_Alison..._

I shivered and felt my stomach churn. I saw Alison... where ever I was. _In my head._ I saw her and it made me uncomfortable. The things she said...

I close the bathroom door behind me, locking it... just to be certain... I slowly strip down while I try to better recall everything I... thought about.

_"Are you trying to get me killed? This one already tried once."_

My breath caught in my throat. Alison's harsh voice echoing in my head. She pointed at me. _Me._ She... But that wasn't real. It was in my head.

It was in my head.

Did... Did I? Why would I...? Why would I think that? Why would I try to...? Ali... Ali was my friend.

_Is._ Is my friend. She...

I reach to turn on the water to the shower with a trembling hand. I stand there and absently stare at the water raining down, waiting for it to warm up. I wrap my arms around myself, idly wondering why I didn't do that first instead of strip. A chill was settling over me and I wasn't so sure it was actually due to my exposed skin.

_"Spencer doesn't get confused. Spencer's the smart one. Maybe smart enough to get away with murder... Or maybe smart enough to help Ali fake the whole thing."_

My heart is pounding. Toby, he... Why would he...? No, why would _I_... Why would I think that? Why would I question that? How could I think... How could I think I was capable of that? My own words now played over and over in my head, _"I am the smart one."_

I grit my teeth as I step into the shower, trying to control my thoughts and emotions. _I'm the conceited one_, is how it sounds. _I'm the broken one. I'm the **crazy** one.  
_

The water hits my body and it sends my nerves into overdrive. The sensation is overwhelming. It feels good, warm, relieving... yet it nearly hurts. The water feels... harsh. My emotions are overwhelming as well. I'm frustrated and confused. I'm angry and scared. I'm... _I don't know._

_"You're all the time talking about wanting the answer. Maybe you do, maybe you don't."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

_"Maybe you're afraid of finding out the whole truth."_

_"She already has the truth."_

I cover my mouth to try to contain the sob that breaks free from my throat. I hang my head and let the water pelt my sensitive skin, allowing the tears to fall. I'm scared.

_"No guts."_

I see and hear Alison again. She was... She made me so angry. Ali always loved to do that. Push my buttons and watch me get riled up. But this was different. In my head... she... I was so angry at her. She pretty much said that I ordered my friends around... That I thought for them instead of letting them think for themselves. I... I argued her. I told her how I knew she was playing us. She only told us what she wanted us to know. She was always like that. And she...

_"And you're different?"_

Her voice won't leave my head. It plays over and over, _"And you're different?"_

Ali and I... We... She was... Is... I'm not... I'm not like her... She's... _"And you're different?"_

I place my hand against the tile in front of me, trying to better balance myself as I'm finding it hard to stand. My shoulders are shaking and I'm trying desperately to control my tears. I can't.

_The Mermaid_

I saw it in my head. Those words in Alison's handwriting, large and bold. A title. '_Look at my mermaid...'_ I know. _'I think about what she'd be like if she was as tough as she was beautiful...' _I know.

Emily.

_Ali..._

It's Emily. It drew my attention to her. It made me think of her... in that place. With Paige. I saw them sitting together and I was so absorbed in their moment. Watching them together. Paige was... vulnerable and the things she said... quite a bit of it was... really romantic in a way. Some of it... Some of it was sad. I...

_"I'm afraid of being alone."_

I hear her say. I wanted... I saw a tear roll down her cheek. I didn't want her to hurt. She and Emily...

Sharply inhaling, I instantly stop crying. I'm trembling and can no longer hold myself up right. I sink down and sit on the cold tile floor, the water barely reaching me anymore.

She and Emily... I'll admit, I've vaguely wondered from time to time about... I've just never been... _vocal_ about it. That was Hanna's area. Ask awkward, inappropriate questions... I wondered too though. I just would never dare say it. Any thoughts I had about it tended to be quite brief really, never so... _graphic_.

Graphic. That's a word for it. I had imagined... It was so passionate... Paige's skin... I just...

Why...? Why would I think so... intently about that? Why would I... pretty much fantasize about one of my best friends "getting busy" with her girlfriend? With Paige McCullers...

Paige's skin...

I squeeze my eyes shut, recalling the only time I ever got a good look at any part of Paige's bare body.

* * *

_It had been a good practice. I felt a little sore, but not too bad. It's always worse the next day really...  
_

_Most of my teammates had already left the locker room by now. In truth, I was nearly ready to go too, I was just moving really slow. I got a "B" on my World History pop quiz and I was dreading my parents finding out. I wasn't quite ready to head home yet. Melissa was home too, so that made it even worse. 'When Melissa was your age she got this grade and that grade. Perfect attendance. Her grade point average was blah, blah, blah.' I hated it. Yet I couldn't help myself. I wanted to try harder. I wanted them to praise me the way they praise my sister.  
_

_That's why I didn't want to go home. I couldn't stand their disappointed looks._

_I had already showered and was now completely dressed. I heard the last two girls laughing as they left together, then the silence as the locker room door shut behind them. Sighing heavily into my locker, I closed it and dropped down onto the bench behind me. I sat there and rubbed my face, sighing once more. Perhaps it's a bit melodramatic, but I nearly felt like my life was in the balance._

_I had asked to take another quiz, but my teacher refused. He said it defeated the purpose of a pop quiz, and while that may be true, I couldn't accept that grade. I requested some extra credit work and then he lectured me on there 'being more to life than school work'. Yeah, right, tell that to my parents. To be a Hastings is to strive for excellence, to be the best._

_I finally was able to talk him into giving me more work, but not until we had a long talk about my... need for top marks. He pretty much played counselor and I simply agreed over and over so he'd cave and give me what I wanted. With extra credit work, I can at least appease my parents to a degree. It also shows that I took initiative and dealt with it on my own. They'll like that._

_"Holy crap!" came a rushed and startled voice to my left. I turned and saw McCullers standing there in nothing more than a towel, flushed and gripping it tightly to her chest._

_Smirking instantly, I teased, "Did I scare you?"_

_"I thought that was obvious..." she grumbled and appeared to tense up even more, her whole body becoming flushed._

_Awkwardly and bit quickly, McCullers made her way towards her locker at the end of the row. Amused with myself and the situation, I watched her and gripped the bench between my legs and leaned back, using my hands to help support myself. I never really thought much of it, but McCullers usually talked to the coach after practice or a game, not going in to shower until pretty much the whole team was done.  
_

_Her face was in her locker, trying to hide her embarrassment, and it simply made me grin harder. I couldn't help myself. I found it... entertaining to see _the_ Paige McCullers so awkward and uncomfortable. Hardass McCullers, blushing and unable to even look at me. I didn't understand what the big deal was. I startled her, so what?_

_Unless... she was embarrassed about her body. That would make sense. A lot of girls go through phases of that, but again, it's not a big deal. I felt really uncomfortable about being so tall and... gangly, but I got over it. Well, Ali _made _me get over it. She insisted that attractiveness had nothing to do with a girl's figure. I argued her, saying she was being hypocritical, especially considering the things she said to Hanna. She countered that Hanna's weight had nothing to do with it, it was how Hanna _felt _about the weight. Hanna didn't feel pretty because of it, the obvious solution was to get skinny. Then she'd feel pretty._

That _is what makes a girl attractive. It's not her figure, but the way she carries herself. It's confidence. I can still see Ali's egotistical grin in my head, 'Ever wonder how some of the ugliest guys get some of the hottest girls? He's confident in himself. Confidence is sexy.'  
_

_Alison would always get us together to try on clothes as a group in one of our rooms. It was fun, but a little embarrassing at first. Ali said that was the point. It was to make us get used to exposing ourselves to others. It was to teach us that well... it wasn't a big deal. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, we simply thought there was. If we believed we looked great naked, then we looked great naked. That's all there was to it. It was how we acted about it that was important.  
_

_She still told us what clothing cuts, colors, and such looked good on us. What _didn't _tended__ to sometimes be a bit harsher... In the end, it's not so much about your body as it is how to be comfortable in it. How to accent it. How to make it work in your favor. How to carry yourself as if you believe you're the most sexy being alive. It's another one of Ali's clever mind games. Though in truth, it really was good advice. I'm thankful for that lesson, even though I hated her critical words and gaze at the time. She pretty much... forced me into finding myself attractive._

_And I know it now, without a doubt. _I am good looking. _And more than that, my mind is beautiful too. She taught me that as well. That men may find it intimidating, and her exact wording was, 'but that just lets you know they're pathetic pansies that aren't worth your time. Losers like that? They're no fun to play with at all. A little challenge is a lot like foreplay. It's always better to go for the clever ones, it's incredibly exhilarating when you turn them into nothing more than putty in your hands.'_

_Classic Ali. It was always about bending people to her will. In a way, it was about winning. That's probably why we argued so much... We both liked to win. Neither one of us liked to admit when the other was right either. Alison twisted it a bit, but she was right about confidence being attractive.  
_

_Yet I couldn't help but find Paige's lack of it endearing. It was... cute in a way._

_Snorting slightly, trying to hold in my laugh, I just thought McCullers was _cute. _Oh, if she knew that she'd probably freak out on me. For whatever reason, she typically didn't take compliments well. She'd either become awkward or would try to brush it off._

_I must have alerted her with the sound I made as she looked over at me, still sitting on the bench with my eyes on her. She clenched her jaw and her body actually looked like she was turning redder. Her eyebrows raised in mild shock, pulling her handful of clothes protectively against her chest.  
_

_"W-What the hell, Hastings? Are you just gonna sit there and watch me get dressed?" she asked shakily, her unease evident in her voice.  
_

_Shrugging my shoulders, I easily grinned at her, "Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?"  
_

_Oh, that sounded a lot more flirtatious than I intended it to. She probably though I was a huge creeper. Her eyes dropped to the floor and I don't think I've ever seen her look so nervous. It sent an odd thrill through me that I couldn't quite explain._

_Power._

_That's what it was. The way a few little words and a look could make someone like Paige McCullers seem so small and fragile. I should feel horrible that it excited me so much, but I couldn't deny how I enjoyed it. That's probably why Ali... No, I'm not like Ali. I'm not so cruel. I'm not... hurting McCullers... am I?  
_

_"I'm sorry," I whispered and turned to stare at my feet. I liked making her squirm... I liked seeing that side of her, but not if I was hurting her feelings. Maybe she had a reason why she was so uncomfortable baring skin to others..._

_"N-No, it's, uh, it's okay. You just... kinda surprised me, I guess," she stutter out, lightly raising a shoulder in a small shrug.  
_

_Smiling softly, I continued to look down as I rolled my shoulders. I was starting to feel the wear from practice a bit more. I decided to be honest, "Alison does that."  
_

_"Does... what?" her voice was firmer now. I knew she and Ali didn't get along. Many people didn't get along with Alison though._

_"Stare," I said simply, "It's how she taught me to get over my insecurities about my figure. There was a long winded debate... And an even longer 'lecture' from her about it. She does stuff to hurt us, embarrass us, make us angry-"  
_

_"Then why are you friends with her?" McCullers asked in a tone that almost sounded accusatory, quickly cutting me off._

_My smile shifted into a wry quirk of my lips, "Because she makes me stronger."  
_

_The room became quiet then. I felt like I should elaborate, but I wasn't sure how. I wasn't entirely sure how to put it into words. When I tried, it sounded so dysfunctional and unhealthy. Maybe it was, but I needed it in a way. No one could tear me down the way Alison could, and when she helped me back up, I was always stronger for it. Harder... I guess. But that's what it takes to be a Hastings. It's what it takes to be a DiLaurentis as well. She understood. We could be horrible to each other, yet still be there for each other. We were really... like family. At least, how our families were. That's how we were to each other, because no one else really understood it._

_I looked at McCullers out of the corner of my eyes. She appeared to be deep in thought, looking down as I had been a moment before._

_"Does me looking at you really bother you?" I ask in a hushed tone, unsure of why it seemed so important to me._

_Adjusting her towel, McCullers glanced up at me and I couldn't quite decipher what she was thinking. She seemed to be trying to figure something out, studying my face. She shrugged with one shoulder again, looking away._

_I told myself to leave her be, but I couldn't stop myself. I stood, lifting my leg over the bench to face her full on. I saw her shrink back slightly and I sat back down, now with a leg on either side of the bench. I looked at her with the most... unintimidating serious expression I could muster and bluntly asked, "Why?"  
_

_"Why what?" she repeated, sounding a little irritated._

_"Why are you so uncomfortable?" I needlessly clarified._

_Rolling her eyes, she mutters, "You know why."_

_Crossing my arms and sitting up straighter, my tone was firm, "No, I don't."_

_I swear, she actually _growled _in frustration. She quickly shouted, "Because it's weird!"_

_Chuckling lightly, I shook my head and replied, "It's only weird because you make it so in your head."_

_"No, it's weird because..." she hesitated, slightly alarmed, then gruffly continued, "because it's weird!"_

_Resting my hands behind me on the bench, I leaned back against them, raising an eyebrow. The amusement was clear in my voice, "Then why are you still standing there?"_

_She jerked, looking like a deer in headlights. I actually felt a little bit bad. I quickly continued, trying not to upset her anymore, "It's because a part of you knows it's not as big a deal as you're making it. Our whole team gets dressed in front of each other and even showers together. Everyone except for you."  
_

_"Is it really that obvious..?" she whispered, her voice laced with something that sounded and awful lot like defeat._

_"Would you feel better if I didn't look at you while you got dressed?" I asked, ignoring her question. I honestly hadn't really thought that much about it until that day, but once I did, it really was noticeable._

_She rolled her eyes once more and muttered, "I thought that was a given."_

_"I mean, I simply won't watch you. I'm not leaving," I stated easily._

_Gawking at me, McCullers looked exasperated. I guess she finally caved though. She turned around, but stayed where she was. She peeked over her shoulder to glare at me as she grumbled, "You said you wouldn't look."_

_I grinned at her crookedly and obliged, spinning completely around to face the opposite direction. I brought my feet up onto the bench and hugged my knees to my chest, idly wondering how long it'd take her to finish. It was so quiet with just the two of us that I could hear the rustling of her clothes. It felt a little more... intimate, I guess, than I had anticipated. Okay, so maybe it was a little weird. But I wouldn't dare say so._

_I knew she'd be mad at me... But I had a point to make._

_Releasing my hold on my legs, I turned slightly to glance at her. Once I saw that she was facing away and hadn't noticed me, I moved to look at her fully. She already had her pants on and was pulling her bra straps up. I smirked to myself, wondering what she was so embarrassed about. McCullers was... damn. I don't think I've ever seen such an attractive bare back. She had nice curves, the kind you think of when you think of like... the seductive female spy in movies. That sounded really lame... I was mildly jealous and also... appreciative? I guess that's it... She just had _really nice_ hips.  
_

_She bent down to grab her shirt off of the end of the bench next to her and saw me out of the corner of her eye. She jerked up, holding her shirt in front of herself and harshly glared at me, blushing all over, "What the hell, Hastings?!"_

_I couldn't contain my grin, "That's twice now. I must be on a roll today, making even McCullers curse at me."_

_It was funny, really. For someone so rough and tough, McCullers really didn't curse like anything. It was probably her father's influence. I tried not to curse myself too often as it has a way of making you appear unintelligent when used in excess. I sure like to though.  
_

_"You said you wouldn't look," she sounded much angrier than when she said it before._

_"I guess I lied," I said easily, shrugging my shoulders. I moved my hand to motion in her direction, "And I assure you, you look just fine to me. You've got curves most girls would kill for."_

_I could actually see her swallow. She looked like she was trembling when she quickly dipped her head to look at the floor. She released a shaky breath and I hummed to myself. I shouldn't be enjoying this so much...  
_

_She seemed to be frozen in place, so I reached for my messenger bag on the floor next to me. Perhaps I tortured her enough. Well, nearly enough..._

_Standing, I swung the strap to my bag over my shoulder. She looked up at me hesitantly and I smiled, trying to reassure her. I walked towards her and I could see the panic in her eyes. I guess my smile wasn't reassuring enough.  
_

_Stopping at her side, I tilted my head as I looked at her face and nothing more. I couldn't explain it... but I felt a strange sort of excitement. I wanted her to know it really was okay. Smile growing, I murmured, "See? It's not such a big deal. You're... incredibly attractive actually," I felt my own skin warm and I hoped my sudden nervousness didn't show, "You don't need to hide it. Flaunt your sexy self."  
_

_McCullers actually was trembling now. I could clearly see how flushed her skin was. Her expression was one of... astonishment, yet she wouldn't look at me. I decided to grant her mercy, continuing past her and towards the door. I spoke more loudly and casually, "I should be heading home so my parents can kill me now. I'll see you Monday."  
_

* * *

I remember... that Monday, Paige wasn't the last one to leave the locker room. I'd sneak looks at her from time to time, but I wouldn't let my eyes linger. I caught her looking at me a few times too.

We never talked about it. The thing in the locker room or the glances at one another. I didn't... think there was much of anything to talk about.

I was...

I thought about what I saw in my head, Emily slipping her fingers beneath Paige's bra strap. I remember Paige's bare back, nothing but her bra straps covering it, with us alone in the locker room.

That excitement. I...

Squeezing my legs together, there was a feeling of a slight ache. A want.

I know what it was now.

Closing my eyes, I stretch my legs out in front of me, the water from the shower head reaching them more easily now. I slide back along the cold tiles and sit with my back against them.

I know what it was now. What it _is._

I don't just think Paige is physically attractive... I find her _sexually _attractive. The sight of her skin...

No.

I can't go there. I can't think like that. She's Emily's girlfriend. Emily is one of my best friends. I can't do that.

I remember the way Paige would quickly look away when I'd look across the locker room at her, knowing she had just been looking at me.

She had been looking at me.

I feel the tears coming back and I'm not exactly sure why. Why would I... cry about something like that?

Toby instantly pops into my mind, his sweet smile, and I feel another round of sobbing coming on.

I can't do this.

I reach for my shampoo as I openly cry, unable to stop. I hope that by the time I'm done getting clean, I'll be done with this mess of emotions. I need to get myself together. I need to focus. I have to tell the others about Ali's diaries. I don't have time for this.

I need to get the job done.


	5. Self Sacrificing with Good Intentions

.

Author's notes: I actually don't have much to say this time around. I'd just like to thank you guys again for any reviews you leave, favorites, and follows. It really means a lot when I hop on and see even just one more than before. I do go and read all your names and any comments you leave.

All of you are really great.

I really like those of you who say what it is you like about this story like Cici, mimezz, kiarcheo, and ihowilde. It gives me an idea of what you guys would be looking for in a McHastings story. There are few chapters to this left, but I'm hoping I won't keep you guys waiting too long for another (though more proper) McHastings story. So keep telling me what you like and I'll keep it in mind for the next story I write.

.

* * *

I'm just-! I'm furious! With everything! I'm pacing back and forth in my room. I just blew up on Emily over the phone and I regret it already. I want to say that I'm sorry, but I'm still too angry and frustrated.

It was a group decision not to tell anyone that we saw Ali. That she's alive and we know it.

But Emily told Paige and I'm so angry with her for that. She went behind my back, she went against her word, she went against _me_-! I quickly shook my head once I realized I... _All_... all of us, I mean... She went against _all_ of us... I'm-! Ugh.

Not only did Emily tell Paige, Paige must have told the police. They received an "anonymous" tip in Paige's handwriting. She-! I could just-! It wasn't her place!

And Emily broke up with her for it. I... I'm mad at her for that. I'm mad at her for telling Paige, I'm mad at Paige for telling the police, and I'm mad at Emily for breaking up with her.

Yet, at the same time, I completely understand all of it and then I'm frustrated again. No, I didn't tell Toby, but if I was in the situation that Emily had been in, I probably would have. No, I wouldn't tell the police, but if I were in Paige's shoes, I probably would have. But if I was in Emily's shoes, I don't think I'd be able to break up with Paige. I'd be angry and the fight would be astronomical, but I wouldn't have it in me to actually break up with her over something like that. I get why Emily did, but I wouldn't do that.

Paige thought she was doing the right thing. Maybe she _was_ still angry at Alison and she had a right to be. Maybe she didn't really care what happened to Alison because she remembers how she treated her, treated everyone. But I really believe it was ultimately done to protect Emily. To protect a_ll _of us. That's the kind of person Paige is.

She's... like me in that respect... I've done similar things, specifically to Emily in regards to Alison as well. Remembering the way Emily shouted and snatched herself away from me in that warehouse still upsets me. The way she looked at me when Alison ran away from her and disappeared once again... It hurt and it scared me. Watching Emily's back as she stormed away... I was so sure she hated me and it broke my heart. I thought I had lost her and I don't think I'd be able to actually handle it if I ever truly did. I was just worried about her. I was trying to protect her.

Like Paige when she left that note for the police.

It reminds me of another time she did something similar... I agreed wholeheartedly with her then.

* * *

_The team was in the locker room with everyone changing for practice. I was a little worried about how it'd go out there to be honest. McCullers was a lot quieter than usual and I wasn't sure how to take that. She didn't look angry or frustrated or anything like that. She looked... a little bit sad, I guess. She looked sort of worried._

_I wasn't used to seeing her like that and it made me anxious to get out on the field. If she was still odd during practice, then I'd know something really was wrong. But then what would I do? Should I just ask her? It's not like we're besties, sharing all our little secrets over a tub of ice cream. It'd probably make her mad if I pry. I didn't like the way she looked though. It bothered me. I wanted to see the smiling, joking McCullers with her lame one liners and her hand atop my head.  
_

_I'd gotten so I actually quite enjoyed McCullers' company. She could really piss me off sometimes, though I often found a lot of her antics to be rather amusing. She was kind of... dorky, I guess. And a little awkward when I'd try to talk more casually with her. She had this cheesy, dweeby smile when she was acting silly and it'd always make me smile too.  
_

_I didn't really hang out with her outside of field hockey and it was mainly due to Alison. Ali disliked a lot of people, though she seemed to have an intense dislike of McCullers. She'd scoff and mock my teammate whenever I talked about her or field hockey in general. I didn't exactly understand what it was that made McCullers so special, but I knew that if Alison knew I actually liked her, she'd really tear her apart. Ali didn't like it when we showed any sort of interest in someone she didn't like. She'd make that person hate us as much as they hated her and I didn't want that._

_I wouldn't be able to handle it if McCullers hated me._

_"Roberts!" I heard our coach call and couldn't help myself from looking over to see her motioning for the girl to come to her. I absently watched as I propped my foot up on the bench and began tying my shoe. Whatever the coach was saying, she was trying to keep it quiet and just between the two of them. It seemed to be pretty intense if Roberts' face was anything to go by. She looked shocked at first, then she appeared to become a bit angry and tried to argue. Coach didn't budge and I stood up straight now, realizing I wasn't the only one who's attention was drawn to the small scene.  
_

_Looking around, I noticed most of my teammates' eyes were on Roberts and our coach. The only one who didn't even so much as glance over at them was McCullers. She was practically hiding her face in her locker and I'm pretty sure she was only pretending to be doing something in there. I furrowed my brow and began piecing things together. Was McCullers off because of whatever coach and Roberts were talking about? What happened?  
_

_"McCullers!" was screeched and it seemed I was about to find out as Roberts stormed towards the girl in question._

_Turning to face her with a clenched jaw, McCullers remained silent as she steadily stared at the shorter girl who looked ready to murder. Our coach was warily looking on, much like myself, though didn't intervene. Most of the time she allowed us to try and settle things on our own, only coming in to break it up if it was truly getting ugly. She had only had to break up an argument between McCullers and I once as McCullers usually walked away when she started getting close to her breaking point. It didn't look like she wanted to fight with Roberts though. She looked like she was simply going to stand there and take it which was odd. McCullers was a fighter, she had never been one to be pushed around.  
_

_And yet, there she was._

_"You-!" Roberts shouted, unable to even properly formulate a sentence due to her anger. She was now literally pushing McCullers who's back hit the lockers with a wince, though she did nothing to defend herself._

_"How could you?! You promised you wouldn't tell!" I could detect a hint of pain in Roberts' heated tone as she glared up at her.  
_

_McCullers refused to make eye contact as she sincerely said, "I'm sorry, but I had to."_

_"Bullshit! You just wanted to get me in trouble! What kind of teammate are you?!" she ended it with another shove, forcing McCullers against the lockers once more._

_Turning her head to look at Roberts with a glare of her own, she fiercely retaliated with, "The kind that cares!"_

_Scoffing, Roberts quickly crossed her arms and her voice was practically dripping with sarcasm as she said, "Oh, because lying to me, breaking your promise, and going behind my back to rat me out totally shows how much you care. I'm so thankful to have a teammate like _you_."_

_"You should be because you're being stupid!" McCullers shot back. She was beginning to sound a little irritated now, though she remained propped against the lockers behind her, showing she had no intention of allowing the argument to escalate._

_"Nobody even likes you!" Roberts screamed with so much venom that even I flinched. The worst part was McCullers' face though. It had obviously struck a nerve, but instead of fighting back, it's like she shut down. She looked truly hurt by those words, and Roberts wasn't even done yet. She continued on with, "You're nothing but a giant brute with no friends who's soul purpose is to kiss coach's ass! All you ever do is act stupid or fight with people! I don't know why you're even on this team, Pigskin!"  
_

_I was seeing red. I may not have known what happened or what the full story was, but the way Roberts just tore into McCullers made me want to strangle her. The way McCullers was blinking rapidly after being called 'Pigskin', Alison's awful nickname for her, crushed me. She was on the verge of tears because of Roberts and I just wanted to take that girl down. Now.  
_

_"Roberts! That's enough!" I heard coach yell. She stopped talking, but she didn't move, still glaring at McCullers' and I couldn't stand it._

_I marched over and roughly grabbed Roberts' shoulder, giving it a good jerk to pull her away from McCullers as I move to stand somewhat between them. Alison had once said I was overprotective and compared me to a pit bull, ready to eat anyone alive who hurt or threatened someone I cared about. She said Emily could be like that too, just not as... 'fierce' as I was. I felt it coming over me as I stood there staring Roberts down. I wanted to destroy her.  
_

_"What the hell, Hastings?!" Roberts shouted as she stumbled back and turned her anger towards me, "You're defending her? All you two do is argue!"_

_"We argue a lot, yeah, but I have never and will never say such things to her like what you just did. I argue with her about how she plays, but as a person, I have no problems with McCullers. I trust her judgement. If she says you're being stupid, then I believe her. And after that outburst of yours, you're not just being stupid, you're being a bitch." I said coolly, surprised at how controlled my voice was given how furious I was.  
_

_"Okay, okay," our coach said in a sigh as she came up behind Roberts and placed her hand on the girl's shoulder. She looked a bit frustrated herself, "You've vented, now knock it off. McCullers told me what happened in confidence because she _didn't_ want to get you in trouble. She practically begged me not to tell your parents, but if this attitude continues and if what happened becomes a reoccurring thing, I'll have no choice but to get them involved. Now get out of here and don't come back until you've healed and you're ready to be a team player."  
_

_The coach ended it with a light push, turning Roberts in the direction of the door. The girl was fuming, though she knew to keep her mouth shut and she quickly left. Coach then patted McCullers' shoulder and smiled faintly at her, "You did good, McCullers."_

_She nodded her head at me as if acknowledging my part and approving when I remained standing in front of my teammate. I picked up on what she had said to Roberts and felt an even stronger need protect McCullers. Roberts was injured (knowing her, she was probably drunk when it happened) and she didn't want to tell anybody because she didn't want to get in trouble. But McCullers found out and told coach in private because she was concerned. She didn't want Roberts to push herself and make it worse, even if that meant Roberts would be angry at her.  
_

_She was simply trying to do the right thing, no matter how it could backlash against her._

_I felt the need to show her I was proud of her, though that seemed weird. Our coach had done that already too, so it'd be really strange coming from me now. I looked out at the rest of our teammates and it looked like there were sides being taken among a lot of them. It made me irritated to see some of them giving McCullers and I dirty looks. Were they not paying attention to coach? McCullers wasn't the bad guy here.  
_

_Our coach was clapping loudly as she walked towards the spot she typically talked to us all from, shouting out, "Alright, girls!" She stood still and turned to face us, "Show's over! We still have practice! Hurry up and get ready! You have thirty seconds to get yourselves out on that field!" and with that, she turn and left the locker room.  
_

_I felt myself flush slightly as I realized I was still standing protectively in front of McCullers and was now left 'alone' with her. The rest of the team was scrambling to finish getting dressed and put their shoes on, some already going out the door. No one was looking at us now, no one was threatening us now, and I had no reason to continue standing there. Yet, I felt a little embarrassed to move and nervous to look at McCullers. Would she be mad at me for standing up for her? Would she appreciate it?  
_

_The thing that scared me most was the thought that she'd be indifferent about it. I didn't really know or understand what it was between McCullers and I, but I knew I cared enough about her that it hurt me to see her hurt. It made me want to rip who ever hurt her to pieces. And if she didn't care either way about it, it'd mean she didn't care either way about _me_. The prospect of that upset me a lot more than I thought possible.  
_

_"Hastings?" came the quiet, hesitant call behind me._

_I jumped a bit at the sound and tentatively turned to look at McCullers. I noticed she was faintly blushing too and I felt a little better when I saw her nervously look down. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt and practically whispered out, "Um, we should," she cleared her throat and raised her voice slightly, "We should go before we get fussed at for being slow."  
_

_"Yeah," a said a little awkwardly. I couldn't stop myself from asking, "You okay?"_

_She smiled and dipped her head, nodding a few times. It looked like she was embarrassed, but in a good way. It was... kind of cute really. Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached forward and took her wrist. I gently tugged it to urge her to follow as I turned for the door._

_She easily kept in step just behind me and I could feel my heart pounding at the idea of it. She was allowing me to lead her and it stirred something in me I couldn't quite figure out. I liked it though. My hand slid down to lightly grasp hers and I felt her fingers move to grip mine in turn. I didn't want to let go, but I knew I'd have to soon as I pushed through the door and the sunlight poured down on us. There was something I needed her to know, so I looked over my shoulder at her and was warmed by the sight of her small smile.  
_

_I smiled back and softly said, "She was wrong you know."_

_McCullers furrowed her brow slightly, appearing confused by my sudden words. It made my smile widen and I continued by saying, "I like you."  
_

_Oh, it was worth it. McCullers blushed so brightly I could see the color run down her neck and even raising on the tops of her ears. Her lips parted as if she appeared to be struggling with a response, only staring back at me with wide eyes. She clearly wasn't expecting that and it thrilled me to see her so dumbstruck. I knew then without a doubt, she liked me too to some extent. It reassured me and I felt the warmth spread all through me. McCullers was my friend.  
_

_But I wouldn't dare let Alison know._

_I looked back in front of me and gave her hand a squeeze. I suddenly felt a little saddened by it, but I tried not to let it show in my voice, "It's a secret though. You can't tell anyone or they'll think the great Spencer Hastings is slipping."  
_

_I felt her squeeze my hand back, and then I released it, staring straight ahead as I walked towards our coach. I fought off the sadness I felt all through practice by recalling the way she smiled and dropped her head, they way her skin flushed, the way she looked at me, and the feeling of her hand in mine. Even if we couldn't hang out normally, I could at least see her for field hockey games and practice. Even if we couldn't be friends outside of that, I was happy I had her at all.  
_

* * *

And yet, I fell out of touch with her when she stopped playing. I was too afraid to seek her out when I stopped seeing her around. I was scared Alison would find out and be even harder on her. Paige didn't come looking for me either, so whatever we had just drifted away.

I regret it so much now. If I had stayed friends with her, we would probably be really close by now. I'd probably be even angrier at Emily though...

I'm so frustrated now because I'm conflicted. I want to call Paige, I want to see her, I want to make sure she's okay. Emily probably broke her heart. I want to be there to comfort her...

And that causes me to think and feel things I don't want to. I'm mad at Paige, I'm worried about her. I'm mad at Emily, I don't want her to be mad at me. There's a part of me that is a little bit happy they broke up and that's what upsets me most. I shouldn't be happy, that's horrible. But it gives me an excuse to go to Paige. It gives me an excuse to be there for her and try to make up for lost time. It gives me an excuse to try and create that closeness I crave from her.

Yet it terrifies me. I'm afraid of being close to her. I'm afraid of _why_ I want to be close to her.

The more I think on it, the more I realize that I do like Paige. Since back then, nearly three years ago, I've _liked_ her. I've liked her in a way that's more than friendly.

Would I even be able to be just a friend to her? Or would I screw it all up because I like her? Would I find out I don't like her as much as I did back then? That should make me happy, finding out I grew out of a crush I had so long ago that would do nothing other than complicate things, but all it does is upset me. It's so ridiculous.

All of it is.

Emotions are... irritating. They make one irrational. I hate this.

I want to go to her, but I know I won't. In the end, I'm quite the coward. I'd rather never get involved in something than risk losing it.

I'd rather leave Paige alone than risk all the complications and feelings that would come from going to her. I'm... selfish. I want it all or I want nothing to do with it. It's hard for me to handle anything in between.

Maybe that's why I let her go in the first place...


	6. Sensitive and Compassionate

.

Author's notes: I'm sorry it's taken so long to update! I've been a bit busy lately and I was having a lot of trouble with this chapter. As I was writing it, I found it difficult to figure out how and when to work in the typical flashback. I ended up not doing one because I liked this how it was and every time I tried to incorporate a flashback, I felt like it was taking away from what I had already written. I hope that even though this chapter is missing a flashback, the mentions of the past will be enough.

This chapter is another one I took a lot of creative liberties with though, so I ended up writing a ton. Enjoy, I hope!

.

* * *

_What the hell am I doing?_

I'm sitting in Paige's driveway, tightly gripping my steering wheel while staring out at her enormous house. I'm afraid to get out of the car. I'm not really sure what I was thinking, but I somehow ended up here. I want to see her, I need to know she's okay.

Over and over, I told myself to stay away from her. This jumble of thoughts and feelings for her were not okay. She loves Emily and I love Toby, there's nothing good that could come of me admitting aloud that I _care _for her. It would just put a strain on the relationships I hold most dear, Emily's loving friendship and Toby's unwavering devotion. Not to mention I'm terrified of how Paige could react.

I don't want her to hate me.

I've been angry with her, resented her, accused her, and yet I still _care _about her. I care about her opinion of me. I don't want her to know how foolish I am, that it took me _years _to even realize my feelings for her. I don't want her to know how badly I wanted her to be "A" so I could rid her from my life and be done with the feelings I didn't even understand at the time. I don't want her to know how badly I wanted her to prove me wrong so I could tell myself she was the same goofy McCullers I used to play field hockey with.

I don't want her to know how badly I wanted her to fight me. I wanted her to scream at me and tell me how stupid I was for _everything_. Everything concerning Paige McCullers, I've screwed up time and time again. I don't know what I want from her and it's frustrating.

Well, I _do_ know what I want, but I shouldn't ask for it. There's too many people involved that I care about that would get hurt. I can't do that. I can't be that selfish.

So, it's more of 'I don't know what I _should _want from her'. I don't know what's appropriate and what I can handle. I wish I could just forget about her and not have to worry about it, but I know that won't happen. That's why I'm sitting here right now in front of her house.

I knew Alison's return to Rosewood would stir up some things for those she had bullied, but it shocked and surprised me that Paige _skipped school _to avoid the girl. Repeatedly.

Emily had talked to her and even set it up so that Paige could confront Alison in a safe, controlled environment. Emily had said it was emotionally draining for all, though she thought that Paige would feel a lot better after getting it off her chest. She told Alison that she hated her, and Ali apologized.

I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I'm proud of Paige, I guess, but I'm not sure about Alison. I don't know what to think or how to feel about her being back. I don't know what to think or how to feel about this "new" Ali either. I see some of the old Ali, though she has changed a lot over the years. I'm still not sure if it was for better or worse.

I'm not entirely sure what I want from Alison either, though in a very different sense. I guess... what I _truly _want is the Alison I first met back, but I know it's impossible. I miss the Ali I truly had fun with. Solving puzzles and playing strategy games, watching scary movies and squealing late into the night... I miss what we had then, when we both had... a touch of innocence left.

But now it's gone. It's all gone and the twisted, fragile versions of ourselves that we are now is our reminder of what we've lost and will never regain. It's a compilation of all the harsh lessons and truths we've been exposed to, shaping us into mistrustful, hostile creatures who would lie in a heartbeat as opposed to simply asking for help as we fall apart.

We'd rather hide the fact that we _killed _someone than say we're in danger, and it's a terrifying thought really. This is what we've become.

And Paige...

I don't want her to become this. I don't want her involved in this mess. She has a good heart and in truth, it's dangerous. She cares too much about doing the right thing, protecting people, and standing up for what she believes in. It could get her killed. And if it doesn't, it would be because she changes. It would be because she'd become like _me_ and I don't want that.

I want her to be exactly as she is. People like Paige... they are truly precious as she's never lost that touch of innocence. She still believes that the "good guy always wins", she still believes in happy endings, she still believes that people can be saved and that following your heart is always the right thing to do.

That's why she and Emily fit together so well. Emily's like that too and I worry for her so much. "A" has hurt her so many times, nearly killing her more than once. I fear for her as I fear for Paige, but I'm at least close enough with Emily that I can try to take her burdens on myself instead of letting them tarnish her heart. I can't have that closeness with Paige because I would simply want to be closer still. I'd want more.

I'd want more and more until I tore her apart. I'd put that darkness in her as I have with Toby, leading him to join "A" because he was trying to protect me. I can't do that to her. She's already in danger, that's why I'm here. I need to see that she's safe and sound or else I'll lose my mind.

Emily told me what happened. Paige had started going to school again, though she kept her distance from Alison. Yet, she wasn't in school today. She stayed home because she's _scared_.

Paige had information about Mona, she knew some of the people who were planning against Alison with her. Against _us_. She told Emily who she recognized because it was _the right thing to do_. She may have hated Alison, but she didn't want to be responsible for something happening to her. That's not the kind of person Paige is, so she told Emily what she knew.

And then there was a dead rat placed in her locker. A dead _rat_ after she had _ratted out _the people working with Mona, including my sister. _Melissa _of all people...

As hurt, angry and confused as I am by that, I'm unable to focus on anything other that Paige's well being right now. I'm terrified that she won't be in her house. I'm terrified that her parents will answer the door, asking me if I had seen their daughter. That she's missing.

The last dead animal we encountered was a dead pig in the back of Wilden's police car. The next day, his body was laying in the street. A dead pig, a dead cop.

And now Paige... She _has _to be home. I-

Sudden knocking on the car window next to me causes me to jump and whip my head to the side to see who it is. Standing there smiling uneasily at me is Paige's mother. I feel my stomach drop and it takes me a moment to realize she's waiting for me to roll down my window. With a shaky hand, I reach for the button and she began speaking before the window was completely open.

"I saw you sitting out here and I recognized your face. You used to play field hockey with Paige, didn't you?" she asks a little nervously.

Her tone was only scaring me more and I can't find my voice, so I simply nod. I force myself to speak when I realize how rude that seems, my voice cracking, "Y-yes," I clear my throat, "I'm Spencer Hastings."

"Oh, so you're the infamous 'Hastings' she used to talk about so much," she says, her smile warming some.

Paige used to tell her mother about me... The thought causes my face to feel warm and my stomach to churn. Judging by the woman's smile, Paige had spoken kindly of me back then. My feelings of self loathing and regret only intensifies. If I had just... If I had just properly befriended her back then, things would have been so different. Things would be so different now.

"Yeah, we... we were friends," I say with a tremble in my voice.

It was probably the way I said it, the way I paused, the weakness displayed by my tone that causes Paige's mother to narrow her eyes slightly. I could see the gears turning in her brain. She knows what I didn't say. The way she was now looking at me, she knows my feelings for her daughter and I want nothing more than to start my car and get the hell out of there. How is it that the first person other than myself to learn this was her _mother_? I want to disappear. I didn't want _anyone _to know.

"Well, I'm glad you're here, dear," she says softly. She looks back at her house and continues, "Paige is in the pool. Come on inside and I'll make you two a sandwich. You can take it to her out back."

I tentatively open the car door and silently follow Mrs McCullers into her house. I'm too scared to speak, worried that I'll start making all sorts of confessions and apologies to the woman about her daughter. I look around the house instead; open, spacious rooms all finely furnished, though not "over the top". I can tell everything was of exceptional quality, but it's not at all flashy. The style is surprisingly modest, all in warm colors. That added in with all the professional as well as candid photos covering the walls, it feels like how you'd expect a home to feel. Full of love and family.

There are pictures of people I don't know, though I assume they are related to the McCullers as there are certain characteristics of their faces that are similar. There are countless pictures of Paige at all ages, each one showing off her adorable smile. There's one of her swimming with whom I guess may be a gaggle of cousins when she looked about ten or eleven, a giant grin nearly taking up her whole face. Another of her high up in a tree, waving down at the camera and taking a bite out of an apple at around seven or eight. This one, she was close to five dressed as a cowboy, running after other children in costumes with the church in the background.

And then I see a picture that really catches my attention. It's among a collection of pictures all depicting Paige when she played field hockey. What first draws me in is the silly look on her face, all scrunched up with an eyebrow raised and her lips poked out. She had been in one of her playful moods, and what's more, I was in the picture too. I was in the background, but I was there and it was Paige who was drawing attention to that fact. She had her fingers held up and it gave the illusion that she was squashing my head between her index finger and thumb. I had my lips pursed and was playfully glaring at her.

I vaguely remember that day, it was our last practice together. She had brought a camera and occasionally took pictures as the team fooled around and didn't actually practice much. We were more interested in simply having fun that day as the season was coming to a close, meaning that some of us wouldn't really be seeing each other again like anything. I noticed that I was in a handful of the pictures actually. More often than not, Paige had angled the pictures to make it look like she was doing something to a small me in the background.

I had wondered why Bates came up behind me and randomly pulled my ponytail up... Paige had her fingers over Bates to make it look like she was pulling my hair. In another I was hunched forward slightly with my weight on my field hockey stick and smiling off at something unseen, Paige had positioned her hand to make it look like her giant finger had rammed into my stomach and was perhaps tickling me? At least, it seemed that way with my smile.

The best one though, we were standing right next to each other. I'm smiling widely at the camera and may have just been laughing since my mouth was partially open and I'm just barely leaning forward. Paige is so close to me with a goofy grin, her hand behind my head giving me "bunny ears". We both looked so happy and carefree. We both looked so _young_. It sounds silly, I know, but we did. Our eyes were bright and full of a sort of joy and lightheartedness I haven't felt in a very long time.

I envy the me in that picture, wishing I could be that girl again, wishing I could _feel _that again. I also wish I could stand that close to Paige and smile like that again. That I could let loose and let her own silliness influence me, making me want to play around too. I wish I could feel my hand in hers as she pulls me up to stand with her after being knocked down again. I wish I could feel the weight of her hand on top of my head, lightly ruffling up my hair with that particular grin of her's again. I wish I could see the way her skin would flush when I'd tease her or compliment her again. I wish I could see that rare intensity in her eyes again and summon the nerve to ask what it means when she'd look at me that way.

I could feels tears pricking my eyes as I stare at that photo, unable to move away from it. I jump with a start when a hand gently rubs my back in an attempt to sooth away my unexpected sorrow. I look over my shoulder to see Mrs McCullers smiling sadly at me. Her voice is still soft as she speaks to me, "Why don't you put something in your stomach? I hope cucumber sandwiches are alright, Paige loves them. I'm hoping you might be able to encourage her to eat too. She hasn't eaten all day and won't listen to me."

Blinking back my tears, I nod and notice my voice is far more vulnerable sounding than I'd like, "I like them, yes. Thank you. I'll try to get her to eat some."

"No, thank you, dear. I'm hoping she'll talk to you since she won't talk to me. I take it you're here because she wasn't in school today?" she asks.

"Yeah..." I trail off, looking down at my feet.

"Do you know why she wasn't in school today?" she continues to question, obviously knowing the answer herself as Coach Fulton had to have called.

I could feel the fear stirring within me again, recalling the subtle death threat that Mrs McCullers wouldn't even understand, "Yes."

"Do you know who would do such a thing?" she asks and I could hear the hint of frustration in her voice. There was a slight edge to it, clearly angered that someone was bullying her child. I guess since Paige wasn't talking about it, her mother decided to interrogate me for information.

I hesitate, then figure a partial truth wouldn't really hurt in this moment, "I could think of a few, but I'm not really sure."

"Why? Why my Paige?" she almost sounds desperate, needing to understand, needing to protect her daughter.

Looking up at the woman, I earnestly reply, "Because she's a good person and some people don't like that. They don't like that she won't bend to their will."

Mrs McCullers clenches her jaw and looks behind her towards the kitchen, "I'm not happy that people can be cruel over such a thing, especially children, but I'm proud that she doesn't let those types of people influence her. I'm proud of her for understanding right from wrong and choosing to do what's right, even if others try to hurt her for it. It just makes me sad and angry that they would."

"I know," is all I can muster to say. I have so many thoughts and feeling about it myself, all of which I can't share with Paige's mother. Most of which involves "A".

She sighs and begins walking towards the kitchen, "Come on, come grab these sandwiches and I'll show you to the back door."

I take one last look at the photo of Paige and I smiling together, then I reluctantly follow Mrs McCullers over to the kitchen counter. She lifts the plate of sandwiches, all cut into eight meticulously stacked little triangles, and hesitates. She has a distant look in her eyes as she looks down at the sandwiches. She quickly places it back down and hurries over towards a cabinet. She speaks into the cabinet while she looks for something and lowly says, "Silly me, what if you two get thirsty?"

"I'm fine, you don't need to worry. I could take Paige a drink though," I say, feeling a little uneasy. I feel rather exposed and emotional after my thoughts and heart got the best of me, after this woman saw right through me and seemed to actually be sympathetic. I feel kind of like I'm imposing now as it's becoming more apparent that what's going on with her daughter is really upsetting her more than she's trying to let on.

Mrs McCullers pulls out a tray and two glasses anyway. She moves over to the refrigerator and grabs a pitcher from inside as she replies, "Well, just in case you do..." she pours one glass, then hovers over the next and asks, "Is sweet tea alright?"

I smile slightly in amusement over the situation, "Yes, that's fine."

Paige's mother is reminding me more and more of Emily's mother with each passing moment. Judging by the pictures and the way she's been talking, Paige is her whole world. Paige is and will forever be her baby girl and it seems to hurt her that she can't chase away the boogey man or kiss away the boo-boos anymore. Paige is too old for that now and the problems she has now, her mother can't make go away.

I'm... a stranger really, and she went outside to check on me when she saw me sitting in the driveway, she tried to comfort me when she saw that I looked sad, she quickly offered me food and pretty much insisted that I take a drink as well. She just met me and she's mothering me. She's also intuitive and has already figured out something I think I may never be able to say aloud. Instead of making me uncomfortable about it, she looked at me like she wished she could fix it somehow.

I decide that I like Mrs McCullers. Paige's father has a tendency to rub people the wrong way, though it seems she got her genuine kindness and heart from her mother. They both have that desire to take care of others and it's a trait I greatly admire.

After placing the cups and plate of sandwiches on the tray, she hands it to me and motions for me to follow her, "This way, dear. She's been in the pool for a few hours now and I'm worried she might catch a cold. I'm sorry to keep asking you things, but do you think you could maybe try to get her to come in soon?"

"Yeah, of course," I quickly reply, gripping the tray a little more firmly than necessary as I take unsteady steps behind the older woman. I was getting closer to actually seeing Paige and I have no idea what to even say to her. Panic's setting in and I kind of want to run out of the house now that I know she's safe at home. I know I'll feel a lot better once I lay eyes on her though. To see her and assure myself that she's right there.

The way Mrs McCullers is talking though... It has me worried. Would she even want to talk to me if she's refusing to talk to her own mother? She seems to be hiding outside in the pool - her safe zone. Would I be crossing a line going out there? Would I be invading Paige's safe zone and making it worse?

Her mother has entrusted me with this though. I feel like I need to at least try. I need to try because she's not taking care of herself. She's not eating and she's been in an outdoor pool for hours in November.

But I'm scared. I don't know what to expect or what to say. I didn't really think things through when I came over here. I don't like going into things without a plan. I like feeling in control and this... I have no control over myself when it comes to Paige McCullers and it terrifies me.

Nearly walking into Mrs McCullers, I realize she stopped. We're standing in front of a sliding glass door that leads into the backyard. Through it, I can see the pool and Paige floating along it's surface staring at the sky. It's now or never as I feel the woman standing next to me lightly squeeze my shoulder and open the door.

"Thank you," she says softly. I nod, feeling my stomach churning as I take a shaky breath and step through the door. I've made it past the threshold and there's no turning back now. I can feel the way my body is shivering in anticipation and my nausea only intensifies.

My eyes seem glued on Paige's figure, noting how she's slimmed down some as she's grown and matured. The muscle and slight baby fat she once had when we played field hockey has transformed into an older, sleeker, more toned swimmer's body. It left me with mixed feelings. There's a slight feeling of loss, noting how her figure has changed as she changed sports. It's a visual reminder of the fact that we had gone down separate paths and I had lost whatever it was we had.

Yet, I can't deny how attractive her figure is now. I thought she was attractive back then too though. Perhaps her figure's appearance itself isn't what really matters to me, even though I like looking at it. I just... like looking at her. I like looking at _Paige_.

She must have noticed me because she quickly righted herself and swam to the pool's edge looking at me. I feel guilty for enjoying watching her move through the water, and I think she noticed. She doesn't say anything about it though.

Furrowing her brow, Paige only looks mildly irritated to see me. Glancing at the tray in my hands, then back at my face slightly confused, she asks, "What are you doing here?"

Feeling a bit cheeky and hoping to keep the mood somewhat light while also letting her know without saying it, I simply reply, "Am I not allowed?"

She looks down with a sigh, I'm sure remembering when she said that to me (though in a very different tone) when she came to see me in Radley.

I walk closer and sit on one of the nearby lawn chairs, placing the tray on the small table that was between my chair and another. She watched me the whole time, so I made a point of picking up one of the little sandwich triangles, saying, "I don't think I can eat all these by myself."

Sighing once more, though with an amused shake of her head, Paige pulls herself up from the side of the pool and reaches for her towel. I try not to stare, but watching the way her muscles move as she climbed out was a bit distracting. This is harder than I had anticipated. Life was so much easier when I couldn't place this feeling. This desire. Now I just wanted to watch her every movement and study the pull of her muscles. I've always admired toned figures...

Dammit, she caught me staring again. But once again, she says nothing about it. Does she not notice? Or have I looked at her so many times in the past that she now thinks nothing of it? Does she not realized how bothered I'm feeling watching her wrap a towel around herself and walk towards me? I feel so stupid. Like a hormonal little teenage boy staring at the attractive girl in her swimsuit, unable to actually say anything and coming across like such a creep.

She sits down in the chair next to mine, the small table with the tray is the only thing between us. I take a bite of my sandwich and am actually calmer now that she's sitting so close. You'd think after ogling her, having her within touching distance would put me into overdrive, but it hasn't. Instead, I feel fairly comforted by her presence. My nerves have settled and even though I still feel a slight edge of that desire I felt earlier, it's now mellowed out into simply enjoying her right next to me and wanting nothing more than to run my fingers down her arm and take her hand. But I won't do that.

Glancing over at her out of the corner of my eye, I see she isn't eating, though she took a few sips of her tea. Well, I got her out of the pool easily enough. Hopefully, I can encourage her to go inside when I leave. She needs to eat though. When I refuse to eat, Emily picks up all sorts of things I normally love to eat and practically has to force feed me when being gentle doesn't work. I kind of need someone ordering me to take care of myself, otherwise I try to argue and ignore them. But I don't know what kind of person Paige is in this respect. Emily always starts off sweet... Maybe I should? Though, me being sweet to Paige would probably weird her out a little. Something closer to teasing then, I guess.

"You must think I'm able to eat all these by myself, but I assure you, I can't. I'd really rather not waste them either. Your mom took the time to make them and all, I'd kinda feel like a jerk if I wasted any," I comment nonchalantly.

Paige rolled her eyes and looked at me, knowing fully well what I was trying to do. I just smirked and lifted up another little triangle and held it out to her. Pursing her lips, she actually took it, her fingers grazing mine. She took a bite out of it and I couldn't contain the cocky grin that broke out on my face. That's all it took? And here I was dreading what I may have to do to get her to eat. I suppose I'm simply far more difficult to deal with when I'm moody...

Popping the last of the sandwich in her mouth, Paige didn't reach for another and leaned back in her chair instead. Accepting the unspoken challenge, I pick up another piece and hold it out to her. She looks a bit exasperated and says, "Really?"

I shrug and say, "I won't keep handing them to you if you just eat your sandwich yourself."

Taking the sandwich from me, she doesn't say anything, but I assume she agrees. We continue to eat in silence, taking a few sips of tea here and there, and I'm pleased to see her finish her sandwich without any more fuss. I feel like I should say something about what happened, what she found in her locker, but I'm afraid to ruin... whatever it was we're having. It's quiet, but it's not uncomfortable. We're simply sitting together and staring out across the pool, both in our heads. It feels nice to just coexist like this.

"It was a threat, wasn't it?" she asks in a wavering, hushed voice. There goes the peace and my heart. The way she asked that, her voice so small and fragile, it crushed me. I don't want her in this mess. If something were to happen to her... If something were to happen to her and it be _our fault_... I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I don't think I'd be able to come back from that.

Without thinking, I take her hand and whisper, "We'll deal with it."

She turns her head to look at me, her face so open and vulnerable that it hurts to look at. She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again as tears gather in her eyes. All I can remember is the way she looked under harsh red and blue lights and the way her eyes held mine the night she was almost murdered. I remember when she confided in me that she still has nightmares about that night.

My heart was aching and I pull her towards me in a rush, our bodies awkwardly leaning over the table between us. I don't care if it's weird. I don't care if I should stay away. I just can't stand looking at her any longer and not doing anything. I can't stand seeing her hurt or afraid. I can't stand thinking about it. I just want my brain to shut up, but I'm thinking of a million terrible things all revolving around Paige and it's suffocating me. I just can't...

I can feel the tears on my collarbone and I really wish this damn table wasn't there. I want her closer. I need her closer. Holding her like this is starting to get uncomfortable, but I don't want to let go. I'm sure it's uncomfortable for her too, so I slowly slide out of my seat onto my knees. She leans back confused and I just move in front of her, still on my knees. I pull her back towards me and she easily buries her face in my shoulder once more, though she has to lean further down now. Wrapping her arms around me, she lets out a shaky breath as she mumbles, "I'm sorry."

Stroking her hair, idly thinking back to when she did the same for me, I softly ask, "For what?"

"Your sister being in on whatever Mona's planning. That's... awful. And you guys deal with this kind of stuff all the time, don't you? And here I am crying-"

"Don't," I sharply stopped her, "Don't brush it off like it's nothing or like your feelings are irrational. Like your feelings don't matter. Because they do. Paige, this is scary stuff and I've cried more times than I can count. There are so many things that have happened... So many things that _I've_ done..." pulling her closer, I'm uncertain how to continue. I stay silent and so does she. We stay that way for awhile, simply listening to the other breathing. I wonder what she's thinking now, but I'm terrified to ask.

She seems to have stopped crying, though she remains where she is, her face hiding in the crook of my neck. I'm beginning to get uncomfortable from staying on my knees for so long, but I don't want to be the one to pull away. I want her to take all the comfort she needs. I think she could sense my discomfort though, because she began pulling away. Keeping her face down, she quickly wipes at it to rid herself of any tears that still lingered. Seeing the wet spot left on my shirt, she turns her head and, once again, mumbles out, "I'm sorry."

Moving to sit on the ground in front of her, I slip my legs between hers and stretch them out under the chair. Poking her forehead, I lightly push her head back to better look at her and for her to better look at me. I smile slightly and gently chide, "Stop apologizing."

She stares at me and I can feel that familiar intensity in her questioning gaze. She swallows hard and licks her lip nervously, unsure of how to respond. The urge to kiss her causes me to clench my jaw. I need to go soon before I do something stupid.

"I never thought you, of all people, would come to check on me," she whispers hesitantly, as if she's afraid speaking too loud would break whatever spell we're under. I understand though. I fear it too.

"It's could passion, McCullers. Just go with the heat of the moment," I reply with a teasing grin, using her own words against her.

Flushing slightly, she seems to be fighting a smile of her own. Giving up, she laughs lightly and smiles warmly at me. Before, my heart felt like it was breaking. Now, it feels as though it could burst right out of my chest. The kind of control she has over me is terrifying, though in this exact moment, with that smile, I don't mind at all. But I know how quickly that can change. I should go.

Scooting back along the ground, I slide my legs out from under Paige and stand up, brushing off the back off my pants. She watches me and I can tell she knows I'm about to leave. Her smile is gone and it hurts. Reaching my hand out to her in an offer to help her up, I say, "I ought to be heading home soon. I have stuff I need to do."

Paige takes my hand and gives it a small squeeze as she stands. I didn't need to explicitly state it, but I'm sure she could tell what needs to be done is "A" related. The worried look she's now giving me says enough.

"Be careful," she says softly, still holding my hand. I don't want to let go.

"You too. Go on inside and get some rest. I'll do everything within my power to keep you safe, so just lay low," I try to assure her. I need to let go, so I do and turn to leave.

"Spencer!" she quickly stops me, her voice laced with urgency and a slightly desperation. I look at her and the worry on her face has only intensified. She reiterates, "Be careful, please. Don't take any unnecessary risks for my sake."

Smiling in an almost bittersweet way, I reply, "I can't make such promises."

She studies my face as if trying to understand, trying to figure out what I mean and/or how mean it. I don't give her much time as I turn around again and continue on my way around her house to my car. I don't dare go back through it and run the chance of seeing Paige's mother. Mainly, I don't want to have to look at those pictures again. I don't want to look at the younger, happier versions of ourselves standing together and think of what could have been.

I once heard Alison say something about wishing she could have a do-over. A way to go back and change things, to stop herself from making all the terrible choices she had made. To prevent all of this from happening and to treat people better. A chance at real happiness.

I never thought I could agree with her more, but there are no do-overs. We have to live with the choices that we make that can echo on for generations and effect everyone around us. For better or worse, this is my life. This is what I must endure, and these are the choices I must continue to make.

I can't back down if I want us all to survive. Paige has to survive.


	7. A Lovely Human Being

.

Author's notes: This is it. This is the end of "We Named a Penalty After Her". I gave you warning in the first chapter, so I hope you won't find yourself disappointed. Although this is an end, remember that endings are but new beginnings. Be sure to check the notes at the bottom.

Remember how I said the Spalison love/hate friendship was rather important to this story and would be really focused on in the last chapter? Well, here you go. (I now wonder if I should have marked Alison as an important character for this story too...)

.

* * *

Absently walking through the halls to class, I've got a lot on my mind. I'm a jumbled of thoughts and feelings as I try to sort out everything "A" and Alison related. There's an uneasiness that's settled over us all as we've come to the conclusion that Alison may in fact be "A". I don't want to accept this, but it seems to be the most logical answer. Alison is "A".

So what were we to her? Just playthings? She once said we were like sisters... Did she even mean that or did she just say that in order to keep me close to her? Maybe I truly was right when I told Emily something similar the night Alison asked to see her alone in that warehouse. Alison was just using Emily's feelings to her advantage. Perhaps she had been using mine...

Alison was the first person I could truly be angry with and fight with all my might, yet still know she'd be there for me. Was that all a lie? Did Alison ever care about me at all? About any of us?

I know I've said horrible things to her and about her, just as she had of me. I've doubted her and I've been furious with her, just as she had with me. There were times I even wanted to hate her, yet I could never fully commit to it. It's so messed up... but a part of me still cares about her. Even knowing that she _has_ to be the one doing this to us, it hurts more than it angers me.

We all loved her. I loved her. How could she?

I don't want it to hurt this much. I'd rather be angry. I wish I could hate her. I _need_ to hate her. All I can think of is a different time and place, back when we were younger. Seeing Ali's bright eyes and mischievous smile as she sat across from me on her bed with Trivial Pursuit laying between us, playing late into the night as neither one of us wanted the game to ever end. Both of us wanting to end up as the ultimate winner.

Was she still playing with me? Had she grown tired of simple boardgames and wanted to truly defeat me? The Ali back then looked so pleased as we sat alone chatting, playing silly games in our pajamas and trying to outsmart one another. It seems we were nothing more than children then, simply enjoying a bit of competition. When had it become... _this?_

When did the Ali I knew then turn into the Alison of now? Had she always been _this_ and I simply didn't see it? How could I have not seen it?

I want to hate her. _How do I hate her?!_

Tightening my grip on my messenger bag, I grit my teeth and try to get my emotions under control. I'm at school, I have to act like everything is fine. All these thoughts are overwhelming and it's getting harder and harder to even _care_ about school anymore. When was it that I, Spencer _Hastings_, came to care so little about my education? It just seems so trivial in comparison to everything else now...

That's when I hear a clatter and look over to see Emily's book on the ground as she stands next to her locker. Just as quickly, Paige swoops down and scoops it up, handing it to Emily. All I can really see is the back of Paige's head, but I can just imagine that grin of hers as she looks at my friend. A twinge of jealousy and regret fills me as I see them talking and Emily's smile.

My friend. I'm not mad with her nor would I ever hurt her. Emily deserves the world and then some. Emily's a good person. She's... _my_ person. Perhaps I've been watching too much Grey's Anatomy...

Loving Emily as I do doesn't make it hurt any less when I see Paige move in and kiss her. It feels like there's a great pressure on my chest and I find myself trembling ever so slightly. Paige loves Emily too, though Paige is _in_ love with her.

My feelings of bitterness intensify as the hurt becomes unbearable. There's no one here to be angry with except for myself. Her heart belongs to Emily. I'm simply someone she used to play field hockey with... I'm a could have been. A nearly was.

I can't look at them anymore.

Quickly turning my head, I catch sight of someone coming from the opposite end of the hallway. It's Alison. She saw the kiss too and I can feel my stomach churning at that look on her face. It looks like it could mirror what mine must look like.

Alison's expression suddenly shifts from hurt to bitter as she whips around and marches back down the hall the way she came. I feel sick. I must have seen that wrong. She's a liar and a manipulator. Alison has no heart.

Then, as clear as day, I remember the words _The Mermaid_ written in Alison's handwriting. _Look at my mermaid..._

This has to be a joke. It's all some sick joke. The pain in Alison's eyes seems to be burned into my mind. It's a lie. It has to be a lie. Alison can't... That's just too cruel.

I hear my own voice in my head, questioning about Alison and Paige, _"Well, what were they fighting about?"_

_"Emily," _Cece had said it as if that answered everything. As if it was obvious.

The name continues to tumble around in my brain and I seem to have lost my breath. No, that can't be right. Alison has no heart. Alison is "A". She _has_ to be "A".

I hear my voice once again asking, _"What were they fighting about?"_

* * *

_"You should have seen the look on her face, it was priceless. Pigskin was as red as a lobster! She wouldn't even look at anyone, she was so embarrassed," Alison excitedly recounted.  
_

_"That's not funny, Ali," I argued._

_It seemed that Nick McCullers had dropped by the school earlier that day. His daughter's grades were apparently not up to his standards and he decided to have a meeting with the principal about it, demanding that the school do whatever they needed to to ensure there was an improvement. Ali had been called down to the office to settle a bullying complaint from one of the newer kids who had no idea what they were in for now for 'tattle-tailing'. She could hear quite a bit of the conversation from her seat just outside the door. Mr McCullers seemed to think the school wasn't doing a good enough job teaching his daughter.  
_

_Alison reveled in the news, stating that perhaps McCullers was just stupid and her father didn't want to deal with a stupid kid, trying to make it the school's problem instead. Mr McCullers was known to be quite a hothead, something that was unfortunately passed down to his daughter, though at times he could actually become a little irrational. It had been one of those times apparently, and my teammate was stuck sitting there listening to him yell at our principal.  
_

_By the time the meeting was over, Mr McCullers practically stormed out of the room and his daughter hurried off to class with her head down. I can just imagine how awful it must have been. I've witnessed some of his shouting matches during a couple of our field hockey games, my teammate always trying to hide away so no one noticed her. Of all people, I thought Alison would maybe sympathize with McCullers. I've also seen the way Ali's mom could go off, though it was usually directed at Alison herself. She didn't talk about it, but I could see the way she flinched when her mother was particularly angry._

_"Oh, lighten up!" she snapped at me, tossing a magazine from her perch on my red chair across the room to the end of my bed where I sat with my back against the headboard, "Don't tell me you've got a soft spot for that loser."  
_

_"I don't!" I quickly responded a little heatedly, fearful that she may see through me and take it out on McCullers.  
_

_Ali eyed me skeptically and pursed her lips the way she does when she thinks she's being lied to. I shrugged and continued with an irritated tone, "I just think it's not funny. Her dad kind of sounds like a jerk and I doubt it's any better at home. A lot of families are just really screwed up and I don't think you should laugh at something like that."  
_

_Tilting her head slightly, Ali's expression was almost teasing, "Like how you laugh at your own family?"  
_

_"That's different. I can say whatever I want about my family because they're my family," I countered._

_Sitting up straighter, Ali looked me in the eye as if daring me, "Are we allowed to say things about each other's families? I mean, you and I are practically family as it is."_

_Not sure what brought this on, I actually thought on it for a few moments. Ali and I's families were similar in a lot of ways and we had become rather close friends, so was it that far of a reach? Maybe not... After a beat, I answered, "I don't know. I think I could handle it. I mean, I might get a little irritated, but I think I'd be okay with you saying things about my family to me."_

_"So, I just can't say anything about Pigskin's family then?" she taunted with a grin on her face._

_Feeling that defensive heat rise up in me again, I shot out, "Why do you have to call her that? Why do you have to be such a bitch to people who don't even do anything to you?"_

_Glaring at me and leaning forward assertively, Ali angrily questioned, "How do you know they haven't done anything to me? What makes you so high and mighty as to label me the bitch and everyone else as poor victims?"_

_"Because I've never seen McCullers even do anything to you and all you do is talk bad about her!" I shouted in frustration._

_Ali scoffed and rolled her eyes, her tone mocking, "Oh, that's rich. Pigskin's just too stupid to talk bad about people, she lets her hands and feet do all the talking for her."  
_

_Practically balling up the comforter beneath me in my hands, I tensed up as I demanded, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_

_Smiling and shaking her head as if she can't even deal with me, her tone was cool as she said, "It means your precious _McCullers_ is just as much a bitch as I am, you just don't wanna see it."_

_I think back and remember the bruises on Alison's back, remember her saying 'Pigskin' did it. That couldn't have McCullers... right? No, if it was, it was self defense... right? Alison was good at striking just the right nerve to set people off. If McCullers did that, Ali brought it on herself. Did that make it any better? Was I maybe being hypocritical?_

_No. I thought of McCullers' hand atop my head and her silly grin. McCullers wasn't cruel.  
_

_I remember how big and nasty that bruise looked though. Alison cut people down with words, but she's never physically harmed anyone._

_Which was worse? How do you even decide? The McCullers I know and the McCullers Ali knows seem like two different people. It made my head and my heart hurt. I didn't want to accept it. McCullers only acts out when she's being threatened. The more I tried to rationalize it, the more agitated I became._

_Unable to argue, but wanting this conversation to be over, I lowly urged, "Shut up, Ali."  
_

_Pushing herself up from the chair, she moved closer to me and continued seethingly, "Admit it, she's just as screwed up as we are."_

_That wording hit me harder than I had anticipated. I'm not sure which meaning had the most effect on me, the fact that Alison thinks that McCullers is screwed up, that she thinks I'm screwed up, that she thinks she herself is screwed up, or the fact that she just compared us all to one another, whether it was intentional or not. Ali thinks there's something wrong with us and that there's something wrong with McCullers, possibly whatever it is being the same thing. Did it have something to do with her interest in talking about families earlier or something else?  
_

_"Um," the timid voice broke up the tense air immediately. Ali and I both quickly turned our heads to the doorway to see Emily standing there nervously. She toyed with a paper bag in her hands which must have held pastries from the Brew as she looked back and forth between the two of us, then hesitantly asked, "Is everything okay?"_

_I looked back at Alison to try to gauge how to respond. Sometimes we'd pretend we weren't fighting for the sake of the other girls and I found it easier to just follow Alison's lead if she made up some excuse or joke off the top of her head. Other times, she was too angry to pretend and would leave, so I'd be stuck trying to sooth our worried friends who were asking what happened._

_What I wasn't expecting was the flash of guilt on Ali's face when she saw Emily standing there. I had noticed that she would try to refrain from arguing with me too much in front of the other girls, particularly Emily. Emily was too kindhearted and would get so worried and upset that I tried to make sure we didn't argue in front of her at all if possible._

_But it was just a flash, it was gone already as Alison looked at Emily with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her voice was light and cheery despite sounding so cold just moments ago, "Of course, Em. I was just telling Spence that my mom sent me a text and asked me to come home to help her sort through some things. Sorry, I have to bail, but I'll see you tomorrow, right?"_

_"Yeah, sure, of course. Um, I had gotten you an éclair..." Emily awkwardly trailed off as she looked down at the bag, surely filled with a special treat for all the girls who are supposed to be coming over soon.  
_

_"Ah, __un de mes favoris!" Ali exclaimed and smiled more sincerely at Emily, "Could I take it to go?"_

_The smile that broke out on Emily's face made all my anger at Ali slip away to the back of my mind. When Emily smiled like that, everyone smiled with her. It simply warmed your heart and I was only slightly irritated that Ali was the one that put it there. I didn't want to fight in front of Emily, but a part of me wanted to bring this up again with Alison later. I wanted to think on it first so I'd be more prepared for the next argument. Perhaps after she gets back from visiting her grandmother in Georgia over the summer..._

* * *

Suddenly, Emily is standing in front of me and it startles me so badly I hardly hear her say, "Spencer, are you okay?"

Paige is standing just behind her, also looking at me in worry. I look back at where Alison had been, only to realize she's no where in sight now.

"Spencer?" it's now Paige who's trying to reach me.

Shaking my head, I can't stand it any longer. I can't be here. This is all too much. It's just too damn _ironic_ to even be funny. It's... I must be seeing this wrong. I have to be wrong. Alison _is_ "A". She has to be. She never cared about Emily. She never cared about any of us.

_Why can't I hate her?_

"I," looking around frantically, I can't even formulate a proper excuse, "I have to go..."

Turning away to make a hasty escape, I nearly break into a run for the school's exit.

"Spencer, wait!" Emily calls after me, her concern growing.

"I have to go! I'll call you later, okay?" I shout out to try to sooth her as best as I can for now. Emily will probably be distressed all day waiting for me to, though I know offering will at least help to put her mind at ease a bit.

I don't know if she answered me or not, I'm too focused on getting to my car. Maybe just sitting in the parking lot for a little while will help to settle my nerves. I know I shouldn't drive just yet anyway, I'd probably end up in an accident.

Bursting through the school's doors, I practically skip down the steps while scanning the area for my car. Spotting it, I hurry towards it single-mindedly and throw the door open, hurling my messenger bag towards the back seat all in one swift motion. I proceed to then hop in the seat and slam the door closed behind me, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Resting my forehead against the backs of my hands, I take a few deep breaths as tears well up in my eyes.

I'm so sick of crying, I'm so sick of worrying, I'm so sick of everything! Gritting my teeth as frustration overwhelms me, I lean back with a fierce growl and repeatedly bash my open palms against the steering wheel, feeling like I just can't _take_ anymore.

I need this nightmare to be over if I hope to retain even just a small shred of what's left of my sanity. I can't remember Ali my friend, she has to be Alison the sociopath. She _has_ to be. I can't think about my feelings for Paige, she has to be just that McCullers girl I used to play field hockey with. She _has_ to be. I can't... I can't _do_ this.

Relaxing slightly, I lean forward to place my forehead against the backs of my hands again with a sigh. I need... resolve. If I am to get through this, I need to compartmentalize my feelings as much as possible. I need to think clearly. I need to be brave. I... can only rely on my Hastings wit. I need it.

Jumping at the sudden sound of my passenger door opening, I whip my head over to see Paige climbing into the seat and staring straight ahead, working her mouth as if trying to figure out what to say. Unable to speak myself, I simply stare at her and wonder what she's doing here.

Wiping her palms along the tops of her jean-covered thighs, Paige turns to look at me with a mix of emotions, most notably - concern and hesitance. Opening her mouth, she breaths in and searches my eyes with her own. I fear what she my see there. Her voice is soft, but firm when she decides to say, "I meant what I said, Spencer. I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

The sincerity of her voice and the care in her eyes is too much, I have to look away. It doesn't add up with the Paige Alison knew, though Emily had caught a glimpse of that Paige before too. I remember how stuck I was on that, how I viciously I wanted to tear Paige apart when I heard about her bullying one of my best friends. I had once defended Paige as if my life depended on it, then I turned around and was ready to destroy her. Yet, somehow I'm back to willing to go to great lengths for her.

It's almost funny how things go. How life carries on and changes. Paige once told me that people are always changing, that it's inevitable. I feel as though I had always known this, that people become warped and darker as life takes it's toll on us all. But only now, sitting here next to her, do I believe it's possible to change in a different way. To become lighter and kinder. That life is what we make it.

Dropping my shoulders and pulling my hands into my lap as I look down, I whisper, "How do you do it?"

She pauses, I guess trying to understand my question as she asks, "Do what?"

Glancing over at her, her face is still so open and full of warmth with a hint of confusion that I tilt my head to instead study her fingers as they anxiously move about in her lap. She always seems so nervous talking to me, yet she comes to me time and time again. She continues to try helping me and all it does is cause my affections for her to grow. She always seems so blissfully oblivious to the effect she has on me, and yet I find it endearing. Paige is genuine in everything she does.

I find it hard to speak, my voice growing even softer as I clarify, "Become a better person."

Her hand instantly moves over to grab mine with a gentle squeeze and I close my eyes to savor the contact. I know I need to ignore my feelings for her, but it's so very hard when she's so close. It's hard when I feel so desperate for some form of comfort from another human being. Just for now, I'll let myself indulge a little. I'll allow myself to accept her care, whatever she may give, and not dare ask for anymore.

Paige remains quiet for a few moments, then leans back in her seat while stroking my hand with her thumb. Her voice is even and smooth as she says, "I think the first step is to figure out what it is that makes you so unhappy."

With a dry, self deprecating chuckle, I drop my head against the back of my seat and absently stare at the ceiling of my car. That list could take awhile.

"I'm serious, Spencer. After I came out," pausing at that statement, Paige's eyes narrow slightly to look at me more critically. I close my eyes, sure that I know what she may now be thinking. At my silence, she quickly continues, though more delicately, "I'm not gonna lie, it was really hard. It was really scary. But then it was out there and I dealt with it. It couldn't hold me back anymore and I was so relieved to get that weight off me. I realized the main thing that made me so unhappy was the fact that I was denying myself. I wouldn't _let_ myself be happy and I took it out on everyone else, even myself. If you want to be a better person, you have to let yourself be happy, Spencer. Really, truly happy."

Tremblingly slightly, I grip Paige's hand more firmly as her words did nothing more than intensify my own self loathing. Maybe Alison was right. Maybe there is something wrong with us. Maybe only Paige was destined to find salvation. Alison is "A" and I'm... I don't even know. I'm just a mess who seems to have a mental breakdown every few months now. Maybe... all I have is my Hastings wit.

Feeling my eyes grow hot as tears threaten to show my miserable weakness once more, I let out a broken whisper of, "I don't know how."

My hand in hers is tugged and I look just in time to see Paige moving closer as she lets go of my hand to wrap both of hers around me. Leaning slightly against the console between us, I rest my head on her shoulder and wonder why I continue to torture myself this way. I take in the smell of her and the feeling of her arms gently squeezing me in an attempt to comfort me. No tears fall this time, not until I feel a warm wetness run through my scalp. I've made her cry for me again.

I wish I could just fix whatever it is that's wrong with me and be done with it. I wish I could just fix _everything_. I wish I could just end this "game" now and take "A" down. I wish I had the Ali I cared for back, not whatever she is now. I wish all my friends, including Paige, could be truly safe and happy. I wish I could just have a normal life with normal problems and not always feel like I'm falling apart at the seams. I wish I could just have a _chance_.

I wish... I could have a do-over. A fresh start.

The slight tremor and intake of breath, Paige trying to mask the fact that she's crying, cuts me so deeply that I pull her closer to me. Would it make Paige happy if I could just figure out how to be happy myself? I don't know how...

But I know I need to at least try.

* * *

.

"I know her, we played field hockey together. _We named a penalty after her_."

Author's notes: And here we are my friends. As I stated in the very first chapter, their feelings were never addressed. At least, not with each other. For Spencer, it was quite clear, but I also tried to allude to Paige possibly returning those feelings. I wanted a story in which the girl doesn't get the girl in the end simply because she never even tries. I wanted a story in which the romance aspect wasn't even what it was about.

As much as this was about Spencer discovering and accepting her feelings for Paige, it was also intended for her to realize how similar she and Alison are. Most importantly, I wanted to try to highlight Spencer's flaws and personal struggles. I wanted the ending to be a bit sad and just slightly bitter with an opening and promise of just maybe, the future holds hope. There's always hope if you try.

I feel like ending it this way also leaves it open to continue it at some point. I didn't want a typical "happy ending" when I began, yet I feel like I created so much potential that it'd be a waste to let it go. I'm marking this as complete as it was my original intention to end it here. I'd like to think that I'll create a sequel which deals with Spencer's feelings being exposed, but it's hard to say. I'm not making any promises simply because of how long it took me to finish this up, but if I do begin a sequel I'll add another chapter to this story with a note stating so.

This may be the end of this story, but it's not the end of McHastings for me. I intend to write more for this pairing, so I hope to see some of you again sometime! Thank you all so much for reading along!


End file.
